Slow Down, You Move Too Fast

Speed bump at The Esalen Institute. Photo by Pam Daghlian

Busyness. It’s a thing for so many of us. Some of us wear it like a badge of honor, slaying our email dragons until inbox zero. Some bear it like a bag of rocks on our backs, heads down, spines bent, trudging through our days with our heavy cargo. And others move through it freaked out and frazzled as we try to hold it all together — a kind of shell shock. Me? I find I pine for a canoe. 

I need to slow down. I hear variations on this theme all the time from my clients and friends. There’s a feeling of everything moving too fast, of not being in command of our own time, of being strapped to a treadmill that only goes one speed — faster. There’s eating lunch at your desk every day, or rushing out the door in the mornings, so busy with being busy that we don’t look up from our busyness to see the people we live with, to eat a good breakfast, to check in with ourselves about is this what I really want? We fire up our computers in the evenings and work on tomorrow’s presentation until we go to bed. Then we wake up and do it all over again. We forget that we can opt out. 

What about that book you’ve been wanting to read or that friend you’ve been meaning to connect with? What about that painting project or those poems you’ve been wanting to write? What about that hike, that camping trip with your kids, that road trip home? What about that thing you can’t stop thinking about, that thing that nags at you as you go about your busy life in Busy Town? 

What if you slowed down and got quiet and took a big old deep breath? What might you hear? My guess is voices. You may hear the wise, smart part of you pleading with you to slow your roll, take a nap, say no more often. You might hear screaming for space and stillness. You might hear a voice whispering, listen.  
 
So, how do we slow down? That depends on you and what you slowness looks and feels like for you. Maybe it starts with saying no to one thing a day. Maybe instead of grabbing your phone first thing upon waking, it’s meditating for five minutes before you leave your bedroom. Maybe it’s walking the dog for an extra long walk in the evenings instead of checking email. Or playing the guitar. Or browsing books. Or drinks with that friend that you miss. Maybe it's sitting in the grass with your back against a tree pondering the clouds. Maybe it's a solo weekend, where you just get to be with yourself, with nothing you have to do. 

How might you build some speed bumps into your life — those reminders to slow down, take your time, stop hurrying? How might you be more like a sloth or a tortoise? Less like a microwave, more like a slow cooker?

Once you get slow, or stop all together for a moment, just listen. Listen for what you’re wanting, for what's missing, for what's awesome, for what feels untenable in your life. Listen for what you really know. Hear what your body is telling you. Listen for the whispers. Listen for the dreams that want to be made real.