It's hard to run when you can barely walk.
Or read fluently when you struggle to decode.
Or pull things together when each individual task is complicated and onerous.
Last week, I was walking on a sidewalk made from decades-old slate tiles. Between the rain and wet pollen, it made for a treacherous walk.
I slipped a bit on each step and had to walk much more slowly and gingerly than usual.
Walking went from an automatic, subconscious act to a conscious one that required thought and consideration.
My mind, which is free to think, was held captive by my need to get home safely.
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