Yesterday, I was on my way to an appointment when I noticed I was driving fast and felt slightly anxious.
I left early.
I had plenty of time.
Why the f*ck was I in such a hurry? I made the conscious decision to slow down. Almost instantaneously, the vibrant fall leaves lining the country road I was driving down came into focus, and I felt my tempo soften. It felt so dang good.
I want more of that.
I used to be a poster child for capitalism. I prided myself on my speed and output. If I didn’t finish my work within an acceptable period, I would sacrifice sleep. I got a lot done. I got lots of accolades. And - big surprise - I was miserable.
While I’ve worked hard to shed the instinct for speed and more, more, more, it still creeps back in:
I berate myself when I don’t get words out fast enough, but the truth is I am an internal processor, and I am not a fast talker.
I get impatient with my kids when they are walking too slowly when we have nowhere to be.
I question my own worth when I’m not producing content as fast as I think I should.
I hold myself to a strict internal schedule that no one else knows of or benefits from. (Inner voice: Sandi, we can eat at 6 instead of 5:30, and everyone will be a-ok.)
Schools teach fast.
Workplaces produce fast. People talk fast.
Cars drive too fast.
People around us often expect speed instead of ease.
Fast is rewarded. Slow is seen as less than.
I am less, then. (Take that, capitalist patriarchy!)
When we have the choice, slowing down feels divine. Moving slowly allows us simply to be.
Life becomes both the journey and the destination.
In what areas of your life can you slow down?
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