Its the end of September and the third official full week of school. The weeks are concise, formulaic and have routine bred in them – they have innate cadence. The days, weeks are racing by like the pages of a flipbook and I am beginning to see my life and my kids’ lives accelerate. It is as if I am watching in time-lapsed motion speed.

Life does this, speed by, as I age, I am finding. Everything gets, well, fast.

Time stretches as a child. A little girl can live a day within an hour and a lifetime in an afternoon. This child wakes up in the morning and knows that there is an entire world of possibilities laid out for the day. But this little girl also yearns to grow up, make her own choices and be in charge of her time. Life begins to pick up its pace, like a runner in her last mile of a race.

Right now, for me, time is beginning to quicken. I know it in all surety. This is adulthood.

Last week, on the stairmill at the gym (the ones that look like escalators), I realized that when I paid attention to the step, step, step of my feet, my time went unbearably slow. I was counting the minutes and portions of minutes down until I was done. But I realized, that with anything, when I let my mind wander (planning our trip to England, writing my blog in my head), the time jetisoned by, zooming through the minutes.

So this is it, to live in each step, step, step, like a baby girl. I should live my lifetimes in an afternoon and pay detailed attention to the placement of my feet, what I do and what I say; playing with my children, cooking for my husband, spending good time with a friend, taking care of the things that God has placed in front of me – joying in this life. I shouldn’t yearn for life to move on, I shouldn’t wait for the next day or month to happen. I cannot change time or the way I age, but I can alter how I see each day. Living in my today-step: this is the only cure for adulthood.