Supermom in the Land of Mañana
Updated: Jul 24, 2020
Supermom. That was me. In fact, it was all the women in my social circle. We worked, raised kids, hosted birthday parties, volunteered at church, and went to the gym at lunchtime. We did it all. We ran really fast all the time. No matter that we lived in metaphorical gerbil wheels.
Lists, schedules, and a time compulsion made it all work. I could whip up a healthy meal in half an hour while helping a kid with their homework. I lined up all my tasks like a stack of dominoes and gave it a push.
Time was my friend. I knew how long it took to drive each segment of my commute. How long to read a novel, based on thickness. How long to fold laundry, clean the fridge, and consume a whole bag of Oreos.
Last year, I moved to rural New Mexico—”the land of Mañana.” That’s what my real estate agent called it as she set my expectations for purchasing a home. “Things run at a more relaxed pace here.”
Amazon actually sells shirts that say “Land of Mañana” in a shape that looks like New Mexico. The description calls it an “Albuquerque New Mexico Pride Shirt.” As Supermom, doing things slower doesn’t seem like a matter of pride.
My paradigm completely shifted. Forget the two-hour time window for a service call. Now I have a two-day window. And I don’t complain. I’m glad to have the service person show up, especially if they drove from the city. To be fair, not everyone here runs that late, but enough do to create a stereotype.
It took three weeks for Sacred Winds Communication to set up my high-speed internet. I’m grateful the service exists here. Even in the Land of Mañana, Netflix needs to work.
I walk faster than everyone in Walmart, like a roadrunner passing everyone on the way to check out line. This never happened in the land of supermoms.
Someone published a study about fast and slow-paced cities around the world. The average walking speed in downtown locations was one of the indicators used. I suppose the pace in Walmart would work just as well. Singapore has the fastest pace walkers, while Malawi (a small country in Africa) has the slowest.
Researchers also used service speed at the post office. I wonder why they selected the post office instead of the motor vehicle department. And they measured the accuracy of public clocks. It never occurred to me that public clocks could be inaccurate.
The study points out that a fast-paced life can lead to stress-related illnesses. These researchers would appreciate the mantra, Land of Mañana. Perhaps a slower pace is something to be proud of.
On the internet, the debate rages. Articles about how to slow down and enjoy life abound. But, I liked my fast-paced life. The adrenaline rush and abundance of checked-off to-do items made me happy.
My change in culture forces a new perspective. I won’t give up all my supermom tendencies, but perhaps living in the Land of Manana can bring some balance . . . If I don’t run over someone with my shopping cart first.