The Gifts of Slowing Down
How slowing down can deepen your awareness
How are you, friend? Do you yearn to slow down the pace of your life but struggle to justify the shift? If yes, you’re definitely not alone.
Our human world, at least in industrialized countries, is optimized for a fast pace. We are generally encouraged not only to work hard but to work fast, and beyond this, to continuously seek more efficient ways to produce greater and greater output. However, when we start running out of energy but feel pressured to somehow keep conjuring fuel from fumes, we begin to realize this is an unsustainable pattern. We may be able to push ourselves beyond our known limits for a while, and sometimes this is unavoidable when emergencies or life challenges rise up to meet us head-on. But eventually something has to give, or our health will continue to ebb away until we can’t function at all anymore.
Although this self-destructive pattern can be fiendishly difficult to wriggle out of, particularly when our jobs and other responsibilities demand so much of us, it’s not impossible. (In my previous post, I offer an in-depth guide on How to Take an After-Hours Sabbatical—when you can’t afford to stop working but you absolutely must take a break, this practice helps you create time and space for rest in the available margins of your busy schedule.)
Once I began to practice a more sustainable pace in my life, which started with my own after-hours sabbatical last year, I realized slowing down is more attainable than I thought. (Yes, it requires effort, planning, and commitment—but aren’t we well acquainted with these requirements when it comes to fulfilling work and productivity expectations?) Not only did I learn slowing down is possible, I also began to notice the gifts that only become available when I slow down.
Many of us worry that slowing down will put us at a disadvantage—we’ll miss out on all the events and social gatherings we could be attending, our productivity will diminish, exciting opportunities will pass us by, and we’ll never complete the passion project we’ve been dreaming of.
Well, I’m here to testify that my experience of slowing down has taught me none of these fears are true. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Slowing down can deepen our awareness of what’s not working for us and what we want more of, and this awareness can accelerate our motivation to take action toward meaningful change in our lives.
So if you’re looking for some really good reasons to slow down, here are a handful of the many gifts I’ve discovered (not sure why they all start with C, but this is what came from my intuition 🙃):
Clarity
You know the expression, “A cluttered desk is a cluttered mind”? I’m not here to argue whether this is universally true, but I do believe a crowded calendar is a crowded mind. When I have too many commitments on my calendar and my to-do list keeps overflowing into the next day, it’s difficult for me to think clearly. My thoughts feel like dead leaves scattering at the first gust of wind, and my ability to prioritize gets lost in a fog. I go into autopilot mode, finding it difficult to see any other options besides fight or flight.
When I intentionally slow down—focusing only on one task at a time, one day at a time—it’s much easier for me to separate what is essential from what is not. I can see what I must do now and what can wait. I can identify which of my commitments are self-imposed obligations (read: unnecessary) and which ones are truly important. The longer I maintain a slower pace, the more room I have to process my feelings, listen to my body, and understand what I really need and want right now—and what I don’t.
Calm
I absolutely hate rushing. Hurrying almost always has unpleasant side effects for me: I bruise my knee, I spill an entire glass of water, I misplace my keys, I forget my wallet. Can you relate?
Slowing down, especially when I’m getting ready for work or a scheduled appointment, gives me a much-needed sense of calm. It’s my way of creating a few moments of peace before I step into the chaos of the world outside. A slower pace allows me to focus on the necessary preparations—getting dressed, eating, brushing my teeth, etc.—with better concentration. By giving my full attention to one task at a time, my routine feels more manageable, and I’m less likely to forget something or have an accident. I am also more likely to arrive at my destination in a good mood.
Contentment
Have you ever noticed a sunset lighting up the sky in dazzling hues of pink and orange while you’re driving—but there’s no place to pull over, and you’re in a hurry to reach your destination? I’ve had this experience so many times. It’s hard to appreciate what’s around you when you’re rushing through life at top speed. Taking time to savor the minutes, rather than just counting down the hours, gives me a feeling of contentment with where I am now—even in the middle of a busy day.
Recently I drove my car to the auto shop in my neighborhood for an inspection. There was a long wait time, so I decided to return home on foot—about a 20-minute walk. Although I had many things to do, while I was walking home I allowed myself to forget everything except what was right in front of me.
It was a beautiful spring morning. I listened to birds singing, enjoyed a gentle breeze cutting softly through the sun’s warmth, and stopped to smell the purple blossoms of a Texas mountain laurel—which gives off a scent, strangely and miraculously, like grape candy. What a welcome break from staring at my computer screen all day! And if I had ruminated on my to-do list all the way home, I would have missed the delights of nature in my own neighborhood.
Slowing down reminds me there is always something to be grateful for, however small, and however difficult my circumstances are. When I can’t think of anything else, I can focus on my breathing and remember that at least I’m still alive.
Connection
Do you sometimes find yourself in conversation with someone and realize you haven’t actually been paying attention to their words because you’re lost in your own thoughts? Though I strive to be a good listener, I confess this happens to me sometimes. Being completely absorbed by my own concerns is like getting stuck in a wind tunnel. I can’t hear anyone around me, and it feels like nothing else exists but the narrow sphere of my circumstances.
Slowing down—taking regular breaks and making an effort to be fully present—helps me get out of my head. It reminds me there is an entire universe surrounding the little life I know.
Going for a walk in the park reinforces my connection to nature. Having a phone call with a friend (and truly, attentively listening to them) reinforces my connection to other people. Doing a yoga workout reinforces my connection to my own body. Looking up at the moon and stars in the night sky reinforces my connection to a higher power, to something greater than me.
But I can easily miss all of these connections if I don’t take a pause now and then. Often when I am preoccupied with my own problems, I forget that I’m not alone; help is available if I slow down long enough to look around me and find it.
Curiosity
Doesn’t the bottomless curiosity of children amaze you sometimes (when you’re not the one having to answer the hundredth question in an hour)? They ask lots of questions, they stop and stare at ants marching across the pavement, they want to try every flavor of ice cream, they love exploring a new playground. Children are naturally curious, not only because the world is so new to them, but also because they take time to pay attention to small wonders.
As adults, we have so many responsibilities, commitments, and distractions vying for our attention that it can be challenging to tap into our curiosity. But it’s there; it’s always available to us if we slow down long enough to give it free reign.
Sometimes it takes a crisis to remind us of our curiosity. Last year, when I began to experience burnout, I also began to feel very disoriented. For the first time in my life, I had a strong resistance to doing anything productive whatsoever, and I had no idea what to do next. A good friend advised me to just sit in the fog of my disorientation for a while, instead of rushing to escape it.
At first, I was restless and uncomfortable; but as I gradually let go of my emotional jitters, I began to find rest and comfort in this liminal space. Without a clear path in front of me, I had room to imagine new possibilities. I’m happy to report that this newsletter is one result of following my curiosity.
How about you?
Have you experienced any of these gifts as a result of slowing down? What other gifts has the practice of slowing down given you? Let me know in the comments. I’d love to learn from you!
And stay tuned for a sequel—I want to share several more gifts of slowing down in my next post.
Until then, may you seek and find the support you need most right now. 🐌
Note: After this post, Snail Steps will be moving into a biweekly schedule. My aim is to publish two posts a month, every other Friday. Thank you for reading! See you again soon.