I’ve never liked sudden movements. My mother can attest to this. When I was a child, she learned to precursor any change in my environment with a warning. We’re going to go to the store this afternoon. We’ll be stopping bath time in 10 minutes. To let me adjust to the idea of it.
Abrupt change would pause me in my tracks, an unspeakable rage, fear, and frustration come over me. As an adult, I’ve come to recognize this for the anxiety it is. Of course the unexpected is infuriating when your mind is constantly trying to anticipate six steps ahead.
At the same time, being in the messy middle of a life transition makes my heart race with a new sort of tension. The future is thrown like dice up in the air. I have to sit, waiting, until it lands around me like little islands to foretell my fate.
Yahtzee or snake eyes.
There’s a joke in our household, called One More Minute. It comes from my childhood bedtime routine. Every night when my mom would get up to leave, I’d grab her arm and say:
Five more minutes.
No.
Three more minutes.
No.
One more minute!
When my husband and I started dating, I’d do the same thing: getting up from the couch? One more minute. Leaving the table at a restaurant after a meal? One more minute. Everything done with a buffer, an intangible pause. I need that breath to reorient myself from one activity to the next.
Tell me what to do and then give me a moment. Not a long one though—
Just one more minute.
This is my entry for
’s Substack Sound Circle! I had a lot of fun writing this short piece and then recording it. I’ve been wanting to explore adding audio to more of my essays and this challenge was the perfect motivation to give it a try. Thank you, Laura, for this invitation and the encouragement to step outside my comfort zone. I look forward to doing more of these!
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One More Minute