Pourquoi vous vous dépêchez?

If multi-tasking were a sport, how many of us would be Olympians?  Don’t be shy…raise your hand!

My ability to pack as much into each moment as I can was an enviable skill in my previous professional life.  I could work on a presentation while taking a phone meeting with a prospective client, answering an email, consulting with a colleague, and eating lunch at the same time.  I could juggle it all, getting more done in one day that most people did in a week.  And I was rewarded for this. 

But I also paid severely.  My personal life took a back seat – as did my health.  My husband used to groan on vacations when I pulled out my laptop right after the plane took off.  I was physically there, but my time was still 60% work, 25% time with family or friends, and 15% me asleep on the beach (or in the hotel room or on my parents’ couch) from exhaustion.  As the stress level grew, it became untenable. 

I am fortunate to have people in my life who lovingly brought me back to earth and reminded me that I needed balance.  And when my OB made me stop working when I was pregnant with my first son, it was a flashing light to check myself!

So, I slowed down for a few weeks and said goodbye to my business career.  Yet once I became a full-time mom the sneaky multi-tasker simply took a different shape. 

There I was, nursing my baby while exercising with my friend (who knew you could do those things together?!), while also detouring us through Whole Foods to buy organic veggies to puree for my child once I returned home.  (BTW, mothers should be given a gold medal every day!)

No matter how I have tried to practice mindfulness, that nagging need to be productive – to have something to show for my time at the end of the day – is always there.  Now with my kids getting older, different demands from family, and me pursuing a writing career, my multi-task master stands tall and demanding.  

Yet here in the south of France, life moves a little differently. 

In most cases, the idea of hurrying through a task quickly to get to the next one (let alone doing multiple things at once) seems more foreign than my American accent.  It’s been quite an adjustment.

Last week, I tried to run into the fromagerie to buy parmesan while my family waited in the car.  It was a refrain they’ve heard before:  “Hang on a sec…I’ll just be right back!” as I bolted out the door.  When I didn’t emerge from the cheese shop for over a half hour, my waiting husband and children were more than a little miffed.  What happened? 

Well, here’s what.  It wasn’t crowded in the shop – there was only one customer and her daughter, who had a few items already collected.  So, as I glanced around and took stock of the situation, I figured I was golden…she had to be almost done.  I quickly calculated that it might take her 1-2 minutes to order each item and she had maybe three items left, plus time to pay and pack up the items… I’d be out of there in 5-7 min. 

As it turned out, my math was way off. 

The daughter was making something and was carefully considering the right cheeses and butters to use.  I applaud that…but let’s be efficient, right?  No.

There was much discussion among the family and the cheese monger.  What was she making?  What was the desired consistency?  What time of day was she preparing it?  Then the cheese monger shared stories of her childhood making food.  And these stories were not just passing comments.  She relayed in detail her first adventure making a cake and then her mistakes with fondu.  The mother added her reminiscences as well.  There were a few cheeses tasted and rejected, consideration of the appropriate amount of butter to be cut off the block.

Then the mother pulled out used containers from her bag and started ordering crème fraiche, kefir, yogurt.  Decisions were considered among the crèmes; more stories were relayed.  This went on and on…all while I’m just standing there in this tiny shop nodding and smiling. 

In true LA-style, my mind began a full protest behind my “patient” smile. 

Don’t they see me here waiting? 

How inconsiderate. 

Maybe she will let me order my ONE thing.  I’d take me maybe 30 seconds. 

Oh heavens…she’s looking in the cases again.  More yogurt!? 

More butter now?  How much butter can one person need?  (spoiler alert: there’s never too much butter!)

And the big protest said quietly behind my ever-widening eyes: 

Can’t they see that I’m in a hurry??

Then it hit me.  No…they aren’t even registering that I might be hurrying to fit in my task because they don’t do that here.  A ha!

Instead of the marketing trip being an item on their list of “to dos”, it is a special moment to be shared with mother and daughter.  A time for a love of cuisine to be kindled.  The fact that I am present just means that I am in the tapestry of the scene, adding to the experience.  The assumption is that I am as enthralled with the moment as they are.  Why hurry?  That would defeat the entire purpose. 

Apparently, they don’t run to the market before rushing to pick up the kids from school:  setting a 15 min timer (in 5 minute increments) to pace yourself through the store quickly (yes, I do that!), and then pull something out of the sacks to eat as your lunch as you rush to make it on time (yes, I do that too!). 

Here, picking up the kids at school is an event in itself.  Parents arrive early to park and walk to the garden gate to wait.  There is much laughing, talking, and commiserating with fellow parents, teachers, and other students. 

When each child comes out their teacher pauses to make eye contact with the parent (can you believe that?), hugs the child, and watches them depart. Parents and kids then stay to chat some more.  It’s community time, family time.  No one seems to mind the flow of time. 

I have found myself thinking, don’t these people have anywhere else to be? 

But I think that’s the point…they don’t have anywhere to be, but where they are right now.  They take life as it comes and if they are delayed getting to the next thing, or don’t get to it at all, so be it. 

I still am tempted to try to pack in as much senseless productivity as I can these days.  But at least now I have a good laugh when the latter 2/3 of my to-do list gets scraped.  That’s just the way it is. 

C’est la vie.