Move Slow

I returned late last night from Phoenix, AZ. After a couple of flight delays (engine parts) that eventually led to a rebooked flight. Also after the gift of some added conversation — airport wait time — with my colleague Krista, the main steward of the PBUCC’s (Pension Board, United Church of Christ) Next Generation Leadership Initiative.

I’m moving slow this morning. After a full week of hosting, designing, playing, adapting, teaching, collaborating. It’s true that my body is tired — my last overnight “sleep” in AZ was three hours. It’s also true that my psyche is tired. As in, needs rest. As in, needs some slow pace. So that integration can happen. Of all of that hosting, designing, playing, adapting, teaching, collaborating.

There are stories to remember. That I want to journal about. That I want to celebrate and give attention to. And that I want to carry with me to the next places of learning that I go to, be they deliberate learning groups, or be they life of home and family love.

I feel a bit like I’ve been in a long sauna and sweat. It’s not just that a slow pace is what I want — it’s what I’ve got. And rather than feeling ashamed about a slow pace, I find myself wanting the much more kind response, of honoring it. If integration of experience were a road with speed limits, today isn’t 75 on the interstate highway. It’s not even 25 on the residential streets. It’s more like 10, like when you are in a park, where slow moving is how you get a better chance to see.

That’s my important learning today, from the slow lane.