Slow

It’s been beaten into our heads since we were kids. 

Don’t run across the street, walk. 

Slow and steady wins the race. 

Haste makes waste. 

And so on. But they don’t mean it. (I’m well into adulthood and I still don’t know who “they” are, but it sounds good and rebellious to say it.) 

They actually want you to work quicker. Move faster. Get on to the next thing, and the next thing, and the thing after that. And they certainly don’t want you to stop and look around. Because if you were to do that, if you were going to smell the roses, then what else might you notice? That you’re a slave to the machine? 

Harsh, I know. But it’s important that it’s harsh. Because we aren’t waking up from anything unless we get a good knock to the head about it. 

I mean, my whole problem is that I can’t slow down. So, when I turn to a solution that all millennials seek (Google), all I get is this list of things I need to do. “Be mindful.” “Chew thoroughly.” “Stare at the tv without turning it on to make you remember what silence sounds like.” 

Hey bloggers, can I let you in on a little secret? I don’t need anymore stuff to do. I don’t need to grow a herb garden, take up knitting, or enjoy a bubble bath. I need peace in the midst of chaos. I need to slow down when everything else is telling me to speed up. 

So, how do I go slow? How do I stare the clock down and say that I’m going to take my time, no matter what it says? 

I take deep full breaths. Because in any moment, that’s my only goal: to just get to the next one.