Learning Slowly
I have often underestimated
the gift of slowness -
ignoring it in a rush,
casting it aside when in a hurry.
Overly attuned to
calendars, schedules, and clocks,
I can treat the idea of moving in a relaxed manner
as a vice or irritant.
Like that old woman in the check-out line
who takes a moment
to put her credit card in her wallet
before stepping aside.
Or that car on the highway
driving only five miles
over the speed limit,
instead of fifteen – in the left lane.
Or that family strolling
on the sidewalk
four people abreast,
blocking my efficiency.
After years of impatient frustration,
I am reconsidering these moments
as invitations to change
my speedy ways.
I have developed some
tricks to help me
slow
down.
Feel the breath
in my lungs.
Stare out the window
at trees.
Think.
Bake bread
and make soup.
Try not to notice
how many times
I am lapped
in the swimming pool or on the track.
Take a puzzle piece in my hand.
Notice all the details, colors and patterns.
Appreciate the shape of it.
Mindfully determine where it fits.
A legend has it that
God walks the earth
at the comfortable pace of three miles an hour
in order to be fully present.
On a good day,
perhaps,
I can do
the same.
Photo: Ed Siderewicz
댓글