05 Feb Making Room
I used to believe that, with enough planning, I could fit more than sixty minutes into every hour. Even when I knew a drive reliably took twenty minutes, I convinced myself I could bend time just a little. Maybe today I would get all green lights and make it in fifteen. I built my days that way, packed closely and optimistically, assuming things would move as efficiently as I hoped they would.
I became more aware of this on a recent work trip, when a colleague asked if I wanted to share an Uber to the airport. I had already done the math in my head and settled on a departure time calculated to the minute. When she suggested leaving much earlier, I heard myself saying, “Sounds perfect!” while privately wondering why people do this to themselves.
Security moved steadily until the TSA x-ray machine scanning carry-on bags unexpectedly shut down and had to be rebooted. It took more than ten minutes. Around me, a collective meltdown unfolded. People paced. Watches were checked and rechecked. There was loud, repeated sighing, communicating injustice to no one in particular. I stood at the end of the conveyor belt, and used the pause to send the girls an early morning hello. I did have to skip the Starbucks stop with the winding line and settle for a canned coffee from an airport store with a short line, which was not ideal but entirely survivable. What surprised me was the almost mischievous delight I felt in my own calm. I was genuinely grateful for the extra time I hadn’t wanted a few hours earlier.
By the time I reached the gate, unhurried and calm, I realized how underrated this kind of self-care is. The difference between feeling stressed and feeling steady often comes down to having room to breathe when life behaves like life. Machines break. Traffic stalls. Conversations run long. Someone needs something at an inconvenient time. When days are built with no margin, they are fragile and every disruption feels personal. I am learning that building in more space is the simplest, most reliable way I know to move through the world more gently.