I can tell that I am dying. Not just in the way that my body continues to ail me and fail me, but in the way I perceive time. Life continues to show me ways that I am in my final chapter.

My 7th grade Ancient History teacher had a sign over the standard issue government clock at the front of our room, written on construction paper and permanent marker that said, “Time is Relative.” I remember so many things about that room, clear as day: the color of the construction paper, the handwritten font, and remember the boy I had a crush on who sat in front of me.

Isn’t it said that when you are young, your perception of time is that everything takes so LONG because relative to your whole life, that three-hour drive to your vacation destination feels like it takes a lifetime? And now, I took a 2 1/2 hour train ride to Wrexham from London that felt like it was 20 minutes. It was barely worth cracking a book open. Once upon a time I thought that older folks are just more patient and therefore not troubled by the length of the journey, but in my current experience I can tell you that for me, time is speeding by. It doesn’t matter if I am sitting still alone on my couch, waiting at the DMV or reading a book, what feels like 10 minutes is actually 90. Several times a day I am astounded by the time because it ticks by faster than I can comprehend anymore. It’s very disorienting but it also makes me feel like I’m racing towards death in the downward slide of the bell curve.

I’ve never comprehended the idea of Zen or Namaste. I’ve studied it and listened as people spoke about it, but a true understanding I was never able to achieve. My life was lived at a breakneck pace and my “importance” evidenced by my full calendar, cell phone exploding with messages, and my long-winded title. I do not operate at those speeds anymore. In fact, I am not physically capable of achieving those things. Gone are the days of multitasking, networking overload or all-nighters running payroll or editing a website. Now my mind struggles to focus on one thought to completion, and my ideas are often lost if I do not write them down immediately. But time? That keeps racing by.

Now, as I roll my wheelchair through life I viscerally feel like I’m breaking waves of consciousness. I realize how corny that sounds, and maybe we can blame the lack of oxygen reaching my brain for some of my abstract thoughts (heaven knows, I sometimes do!) but I have found a peace that I did not know was possible. The anxiety, angst and frustration that used to exude from my pores is a distant memory. I find an inner tranquility as I confront obstacles, inconveniences or bureaucracy that makes me feel dialed in to the energy of the larger universe. Only during these moments does time finally slow down and I believe that is so my soul can bask in the stillness.

Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty to worry about! I have files on my computer with letters to poignant people and institutions from my life, plans for my Wake, lists of achievements or experiences I hope to accomplish before I die… I can worry about my Disability being approved, finding places to live in temperatures that don’t cause physical pain, and the isolation I feel when I’m rendered helpless by coughing attacks. As a lassie that was once known for my improvisation and quick wit, being unable to eek out even a word or two is immensely humbling. Even enjoying a football match at The Turf in Wrexham, an aspiration of mine since I saw the first season of Welcome to Wrexham, I was humbled to find I cannot raise my voice enough to be heard in a bustling pub anymore – once one of my favorite locales.

When I am with my friends and I see their stress, hear their uncomfortable phone calls or witness something go wrong I try to help center them. Show them that in the grander scheme how it is not worth putting your body through the physical anguish endured during this barrage of negativity. I do not yet know if I have a calming effect, but if I can continue to get this message out, hopefully it will help someone.

Our world is smaller than it has ever been. We are plugged in, interconnected, overstimulated and overly (mis)informed. If we get distracted by the cacophony, our lives will pass before we have a chance to be present and enjoy. Again, I am lucky. Unlike those whose lives end abruptly through accident and tragedy, I am given the priceless opportunity to savor my final chapter. Time may be flying but I am aware, present and absorbing every sight, smell, conversation and detail. It’s true what they say that life comes full circle. Those simple things from our youth once again bring childlike wonder and fascination. These are the moments you remember. Not the emails, phone calls, endless meetings or spreadsheets, but the color on an Oriole’s wings, the whiff of baking cinnamon rolls, sound of a crashing wave…

I may be dying, but I finally feel like I understand: Life, love, the grander scheme and the smallest details. I cannot slow it down but I can capture it in my soul where peace prevails.