Already Moving

Shooting stars don't wait

I’ve had two windows of 90+ minutes to myself in the last 48 hours. For parents of toddlers, this is like seeing a shooting star twice in one week.

Sunday, I dropped Lettie with her grandparents. Tonight, Andrea’s at dinner with friends and I’m home with sushi and silence.

Here’s the thing about shooting stars: by the time you realize you’re seeing one, it’s already disappearing.

Precious time works the same way. The moment the window opens, the clock is running. And immediately, things start pulling at your attention. The phone. The half-finished errand. The easy dopamine. They don’t announce themselves as waste, but that’s what they are.

I’ve learned I need a goal before the window opens. Sunday it was a haircut. Tonight it was this post. Both simple. Both restorative. Both things that would’ve cluttered my week if I hadn’t done them now.

But here’s what I’ve been sitting with lately. I can’t rest without forward motion.

A nap doesn’t restore me. Television doesn’t either. Even reading only works if I’m learning something I can use. The activities that actually fill me back up, writing, running, a long walk, the quiet of a barber’s chair, they all share something. They let me recharge without sitting still.

I used to think this was a flaw. Hustle culture brain. The inability to just be. Now I’m not so sure.

Think about surfers waiting for a set. They’re not resting on the beach. They’re in the water, watching the horizon, ready to move when the moment comes. The opportunity isn’t the wave. It’s being positioned to catch it.

I think some of us are wired to find rest the same way. Not by shutting down, but by changing modalities. Working the rest of the body. Writing instead of building. Running instead of sitting in meetings. Finding the motion that fills us back up instead of draining us further.

I’ve stopped trying to rest like other people rest. I’ve stopped waiting for stillness to feel like peace. The next time a shooting star shows up, I won’t waste it wishing I was someone who could sit still. I’ll already be moving.