I heard this expression while watching a TED Talk given by Carl Honore, a journalist who has written for The Economist and The Houston Chronicle and author of best selling book, In Praise of Slowness. And I loved it, which given my affinity for turtles, comes as no surprise.
In his compelling talk, Honore proposes that we are “marinated in a culture of speed,” one which has erected a taboo against everything and everyone slow. He cites evidence that suggests that slowing down at the appropriate moments can not only help us DO things better but also help us BE better.
Scandinavian economies are flourishing since they have tightened up their work weeks and on a smaller scale, students at a private school in Scotland scored higher on math and science exams following a homework ban for those students under 13.
He adds that his most heart wrenching e-mails come from adolescents who ask him to write their parents so they can get off the “full-throttle treadmill.” Harvard is even coming to recognize that incoming students have impressive CV’s and no “spark.”
There’s also empirical evidence to suggest that our health would improve markedly if we slow down our consumption of food, taking the time to prepare it – in lieu of inhaling it already prepared – and heck, maybe even growing our own – food, that is.
C.S. Lewis writes, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains.”
Thanks to my dear friend, Patty I realized that I may be getting a loud message to slow down despite my self-deception to the contrary. Recently, I have not only gotten one speeding ticket, but two and last evening a rather large cup of tea, the temperature of which was 160 degrees Fahrenheit, poured into my lap.
In each instance I was multitasking, i.e., talking on my cell phone among other things. Simply distracted and not giving the road…or moment my full attention. To think we have glorified the notion of multitasking as something to aspire to!
My youngest daughter has recognized my distractibility and has asked in her own sweet way for me to be more fully present when we are together. Unfortunately, I have listened but not heeded.
Honore says his wake up call was when he found himself rushing through bedtime with his son, skipping lines in The Cat in the Hat in order to get through it more quickly. Rushing through the bedtime routine as well as through life, instead of savoring either.
I was mildly disturbed, albeit amused, when during a sleepover, the aforementioned daughter and her 7th grade friends were snap chatting and texting on their cell phones at the same time a movie was playing until I realized my life is not that different. My screens – the phone and computer – have impacted not only productivity and creativity, but intimacy.
To be honest with you, I’m not going to pledge to do anything differently except be aware of how my distractedness has gotten me into trouble. I have indeed received tangible, immediate and painful consequences.
But what about our relationships? Will we recognize the toll our life at warp speed is taking on them before it’s too late? Honore concluded his talk, in fact by insisting that the most important outcome of his slowing down is that his relationships are “deeper, richer, stronger.”
A friend wrote in response to last week’s column that her friend’s son who was only 19-years-old uttered these words when he was dying, “In the end there is only love.”
Wow.
Are you a rushoholic? Do you overload yourself gratuitously? Is your constant busyness preventing you from pausing to ask the significant questions of life and yes, allowing you to experience the kind of pain that engenders real, lasting change as well as sometimes, tears?
Let the tears come, I say. They are a gift. They are grace, They are a prayer. They are an agent of healing.
Frederick Buechner encourages us to pay attention to them- they just might be telling us something. You may need your own wake up call – or calls – which get your attention and propel you, however gradually, towards “acts of deceleration.” And if you’re still hesitating (no pun intended), consider the epiphany of the hare at the end of the famous parable…
Slowly does it every time.
– Caroline Watkins
