There’s a middle-aged man who lives down the block from me that I’ve watched for the last four years. Every day-even in the cold months- he puts on his bathing suit and goes for a swim in the ocean. Every time I see him, I’m inspired to revaluate my life. Every time I see him, I’m tempted to ask him to take another route-it’s been a pretty self-reflective four years.

I had a very simple New Year’s resolution -find the time to put my feet on the sand- once a day- every day. Since January I’ve done this maybe 8 times. That’s 8 days in 5 months that I’ve walked out my front door and taken the 20 steps to the beach.

I wonder when that man resolved to go for his daily swim. Is he retired? Stress never seems to line his face. His feet don’t carry the hurried steps that accompany most of my peers. In fact, he carries an unfamiliar air. He looks…calm.

I’m not sure why that word terrifies me so much. Maybe it’s all the coffee and Red Bull I pump through my bloodstream daily that has me thinking there could be nothing worse the inevitable crash-that calmness that comes in the form of a racing heart and shaking hands.

In my mind that man has worked his whole life for that walk, and every time he puts his feet in the water he remembers the effort it took to get him there- to his small house and his inexpensive car. He considers all the things he skimped on, just for his routine.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve waited for anything. My entire life I’ve seen something I have wanted and grabbed it. Cute boy across the room-he’s mine before the night is over. Fancy shoes in the boutique window-blind to the price tag I buy them. A new place to explore- I’ll find the funds, take out a loan, do what I have to, to get there tomorrow.

So today, with that middle-aged man in mind- I resolve to WAIT.

I choose NOT to act on impulse anymore. Unless that cute boy approaches me, I’ll wait for next time, and if there’s no next time, I will be content with never knowing him. Unless I’ve won a shopping spree, I’ll leave the sparkly shoes on the shelf. I’ll make my backyard uncharted territory. I’ll look at familiar places with unfamiliar eyes.

Hopefully not acting will help me to act in new ways. The beauty I miss out on every day will become clear. Fingers crossed- I might even lose that hurried step and the lines forming between my brows will cease to increase. I’ll start to carry around that previously dreaded four-letter word. Maybe I’ll become- calm.