Psst

On being a little too calm under pressure

“Hey,” I almost whispered, “your shirt’s on fire.”

In my defense, Steve wasn’t wearing his shirt at the time. He’d laid it on the stone wall we were building. The same wall he was melting snow off with a propane torch.

I said it so casually, and with such a warm smile on my face, that Steve couldn’t figure out what the hell I was talking about until it was too late.

Why didn’t I express myself more forcefully? Why didn’t I just walk over and put the fire out myself? Why did I find the whole situation slightly amusing? I don’t know

.It’s not the first time I’ve been told I need to work on my urgency.

Early one morning I noticed a car on fire parked about twenty feet outside our bedroom window. My response was, according to Eliza, a much too casual “holy shit.” In my defense, the car wasn’t fully inflamed when I spotted it. We got the fire department there before it spread. I see it like I stayed cool, calm, and collected and saved the day. Eliza, well, she feels a little differently about it.

Historically, the first two cups of coffee in the morning and getting my boots off in time to make the bathroom after a long ride home from work are the only things I’ve ever shown much urgency about.

Lately, I’ve felt that start to change. Not so much with my fireman duties, but with my work.

I’m trying to be more deliberate with the projects I take on. I’m trying to say no more often. I’m trying to make the yeses count. Maybe it’s because I recently turned forty-seven and the awareness of our finite time on this earth is becoming harder to ignore. Our time here really won’t last forever.

Or maybe the caffeine’s finally starting to kick in.