I hope it’s not just me.
Jackson, my husband, often tells me to slow down. He does not mean it metaphorically or spiritually. He means physically. I often run around our apartment trying to do things so quickly that I stub my toe or bump my hip on the counter or bang my head on the freezer door.
I move too fast.
The Problem
Since the pandemic, I think many of us have become more acquainted with the idea of slowing down because of the forced proximity we had with slowness during those months.
However, personally, I have still not really learned how to slow down and rest well. I often equate slowing down to finding a chunk of time to rest during my busy day or week. But what I am finding is that slowing down or finding rest does not mean speeding up the pace of life, so you can somehow find time to rest after everything gets done. It means slowing down each moment - the painful and the joyous, the chaotic and the peaceful.
Because first, it will never all be done.
And second, because in the process of trying to create time to slow down and rest, you end up doing the opposite. I try to “slow down” by quickly folding the laundry, so I can have time to sit and read on the couch. Or I “slow down” by quickly washing the dishes, so I can get in bed earlier.
Reading a book and getting in bed early are certainly great ways to rest embrace slowness in that moment. But if I am rushing through tasks to get to those activities, I am missing the whole point. The point is not to simply add in more “slow” activities into my day to slow down.
The point is to actually move slower.
But how?
I believe the first step in truly embracing slowness is to reevaluate the tasks I am doing in the first place. What am I allowing to take up space on my to-do list? What am I allowing to fill my calendar? What do I feel like I “have” to do that I really don’t?
And for step two, I want to ask myself what would it look like if I slowed down in every task, not just the ones that are often labeled as “slow.” What if instead of rushing to fold the laundry, I moved slowly and reflected on my favorite memories wearing the clothes I was folding? What if instead of hurrying to finish the dishes, I used that time to be grateful for the meal we ate?
Or what if I didn’t have to be doing something AND something else at all? What if I could be making dinner, with no show on? What if I was vacuuming my home with nothing to listen to but the hum of the vacuum? What if I was driving and allowing my mind to have the space to run free?
You see, we think that if we finish tasks quickly, we gain more. But it’s a paradox. In reality, we get less. We miss out on the presence of the moment. We bury the emotion. We lack the ability to notice the things or people around us that might need care.
There are seasons where it is easier than others, but I hope you find something to be grateful for this week. Happy Thanksgiving.
Here’s to a slow holiday season and a hopeful new year.
Take care,
Caroline
I wonder if you “inherited” some of this from Mom?