Slow is a Pace

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It’s no newsflash that we live in a hyper fast paced society. You can have almost anything delivered to your doorstep within 48 hours and we’re constantly finding new ways to be instantly gratified. Living and working in overdrive takes its toll on our mental and physical health, and I’d venture to say that our need for speed is killing us and our planet. Something I keep hearing replaying over and over again is that “slow is a pace.” 

I’ve said it here before that we can look to nature as our guide, or model, for existing. There are endless lessons to be gleaned from our plant teachers and, this too, requires a conscious choice to slow down. There’s this unspoken contract when we plant seeds. They expect us to offer them the proper container to grow and thrive, and they will sprout when they’re good and ready. We don’t rush or shame them for taking more time than their botanical counterparts, so why do we engage in this behavior when it comes to matters of the self? How would our lives look if we were to adopt this sense of slowness and compassion?

We’re really great at finding ways to take shortcuts around what simply requires patience. Whether it comes to our healing journey or even learning a new skill, there’s that urge to barrel ahead. I think this has to do with our discomfort of the unknown. When we move slowly, we’re creating more space. And the creation of space often leads to possibility. This terrifies us. It’s not easy choosing to live in such openness and fluidity when we’re programmed to predict the outcome. It’s almost like driving on the highway versus taking the scenic route. We’re so fixated on our destination that things zoom right past us. All the while we’re missing those nuggets of wisdom along the way. This sounds like a no-brainer and I imagine most people are seeking more slowness and presence in their lives. But how do we cultivate this, especially when our minds are operating at the speed of light? We can access this stillness through our bodies and our breath. This isn’t rocket science but simple neuroscience, and it’s going to feel uncomfortable in the beginning. Because we’re accustomed to seeing results quickly, it’s easy to give up on a meditative practice. Our minds will try to convince us that the effort is futile and our bodies will likely send us signs of unease. If this feels familiar, please know you’re not alone. Remind yourself that slow is a pace. 

Lately I’ve found a lot of presence in the practices of Tai Chi and Qigong. Both are ancient forms of meditative movement and are a refreshing reminder of how moving slowly can call us into the present moment. You actually can’t reap the benefits if you speed through the movements. At that point you’re just “going through the motions.” Fulfillment and wholeness come through soaking it in. I’d like to encourage you to find small ways you can slooooow down this week. Perhaps it’s through meditation (shamelessly plugging my ten minute body scan here) or through conscious awareness while folding the laundry. Maybe you’ll even take the scenic route.

If you do, let me know how it works for you and what you discover along the way.

All Love & All One,

Hannah


Thank you to my dear friend, Liv, for encouraging and inspiring me to attend the Tai Chi classes at Mead Gardens. Usually class is every Friday at 10:30 for $10. Linked here if you want to join!

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