Maybe “slowly” is better — but “slow” feels right. But why is this something to make a difference or change the world?

Let’s start with an example. This morning I planned an early breakfast at a place I’ve been wanting to revisit to be followed by a couple of errands and some library time before I headed off for some fairly close together scheduled appointments. But this morning was slow. A bit more time in bed. A leisurely shower. Packing my computer and a couple of other things I needed for the first appointment. Deciding what to wear wasn’t simple today so I kept changing my mind. Plus, the library didn’t open until noon, and I planned on walking to breakfast. So, by being slow – and leisurely – I thoroughly enjoyed breakfast. I did a banking errand that wouldn’t have worked a couple of hours earlier. And I got to the library at 12:10. Was any of this world changing? One never knows what changes the world because usually that’s a cumulative and subtle thing (unless of course it isn’t, but that’s another conversation). But this pattern I fell into certainly made the beginning of my day easier, more enjoyable, and a bit curiosity provoking as I wander to what’s next.

Being slow actually allows you to see and delight in things. The world can certainly use more delight!

Ah, but in today’s fast paced world, is this even feasible? On a practical level, how does “going slow” affect things? The anomaly is that often it seems to make things happen faster. The slow consideration of a problem usually results in a simple and quick solution or the realization that there isn’t really a problem at all. It’s forgetting a meeting that was cancelled without your being told. Coming late to a party that is just starting. (You’ve done that, right?) Handing in a report no one had time to read before. Sometimes we don’t know exactly why it worked. Sometimes the few more minutes caught the mistake that would have otherwise ruined the outcome.

If you still feel you must hurry, go ahead. Recently, I was helping host a public labyrinth walk happening in a private space. One woman sat very still, took a long moment to begin her walk, and then moved so quickly through the labyrinth it was hard to see if she actually followed the design. In the middle she sat quietly for a long time. And them moved so quickly out that my companion asked me if she’d just headed for the exit. (No, she again “walked.”) Certainly I don’t know her story. But the slow, even motionless, part of her “walk” was clearly central. The hurry just allowed her to get to the places where, for her, “slow” was essential.

What’s your pattern? When you have too much to do or, perhaps, don’t know what to do, go slow. Stop for a moment to notice your breathe. Sit. Then move at whatever pace feels right. There will be enough time.

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All photos by Spirit Moxie

From the top:
White Ibis grazing on a slow walk in Florida
The labyrinth at the Cincinnati, OH, waterfront