An early important teaching for me — behaviorally and conceptually — was that of slowing down.
My friend Meg Wheatley was one of the people to share that with me. It was often in the context of working with groups of people. It was emphasizing the necessity of relationality. That meant Circle, so that we could listen more deeply. That meant Cafe Tables, so that we could turn to one another in themed ways. Sometimes it was spoken, “slow down to speed up,” again lifting the significance of going together.
Meg is the first to teach me the African proverb, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go further, go together.” It says much about contradicting contemporary narratives and noble stories that only emphasize speed. Going slow is another way to go fast. Going slow is another way to bring meaning and purpose, which then helps the other things happen with less struggle.
My friend Chris Corrigan is another person that helped me to appreciate slowness. This was often in the context of hosting Art of Hosting events. A more spacious lunch — 90 minutes or two hours, not 45 minutes. More spacious time in small groups — 30 – 45 minutes, not 12 minutes.
With Chris and all of those events, we were all learning about the power of connection. And how connection isn’t just accomplished, it’s experienced. It’s evolved. Connection comes from both joy and struggle together — but definitely is accelerated by willingness to commit to slowness together.
Recently I’ve found myself returning to “morning practices” with more deliberateness. This is a phrase that I learned through Art of Hosting. It’s the stuff that often happens before the planned sessions. Meditations. Walks. Yoga. Breath. For me, I typically have a better day when I’ve made space for slowness:
- Meditation (15-20 minutes); This is the one that most teaches me about going slow. I set a timer so that I don’t have to look at the clock. I sit in a chair. Sometimes eyes closed. Sometimes open. My mind will wander. Sometimes wonder if I forgot to set the timer because time feels expanded. This is the best signal of benefit. It’s only 15 minutes. And yet, perceptually, it feels like more. What an important interrupter of all that speed.
Living with rush, all of the time, is painful. And wierdly addicting. Sometimes, I like the adrenaline hit of it all. But it is a punishing disposition, I find, to feel always behind and always rushed. There’s more joy to reclaim in the slowing down, and, in the slowing down that ironically creates speeding up with more clarity.
Thx for reading. And perhaps experimenting with some slow.