Rushing always gets me nowhere. In fact, it always pushes me backwards. If I dash through my early morning breakfast because I want to arrive at school early so I can rush around the classroom to set things up for the students, I’ll find, before long, that I’m throwing successful teaching in the trash can and creating only confusion for the students. I’m forging ahead but falling behind, leaping forward but losing ground. It’s like speeding up an escalator that’s always rising slightly faster than I am – a senseless and silly way to live or teach. To take students to the goals they need to get to, I must make the most of every moment, and that means, not rushing, but sort of sitting down with each moment and making sure the students see the wisdom that waits there. It’s the same outside of school, whether I’m walking with my wife under falling leaves these late-autumn days, or typing on this laptop to put a paragraph together – its slowing down that actually does the best work, not racing, not darting and scurrying and zooming. The sun never rushes to rise, and I shouldn’t rush through the magic that’s every moment.