The joy of slowing down
I am a “Type A” personality. That can mean, depending on the moment, that I am hyper-focused, super organized, and a perfectionist. It also means that I typically speed through my days, weeks, and years, focused on my to-do list (see previous post about list-making) and all the things I have to get done, rather than taking the time to enjoy what I am doing. I also tend to associate self-worth with achievement, berating myself if I don’t get stuff done. It is hard for me to relax–so difficult, in fact, that I often try to schedule it in. (How’s that for time-conscious behavior?!) This is so in spite of my personal mantra to find moments of joy every day. My default setting is fast–whether walking, working, running errands, or anything else. What is the most efficient way to get my tasks accomplished? That must be the best way.
But one recent Sunday morning, as I was racing through the crowd at church to take care of my next task, my wise middle son said to me, “you know, if you slow down, people might say hi to you.” Huh. Talk about a light bulb moment. One of the points of going to church, of course, is community. Why should I be in a hurry? I have known many of these people for years–maybe it would be nice to share a greeting or even catch up on their lives. And what about meeting new people? Shouldn’t I be more welcoming to folks who don’t know the “regulars?”
Spenser’s offhand comment has been ping-ponging around in my head since that day, and while I still find it hard to ease up when I have stuff to do (clean the laundry room! go to the grocery store! repaint the rusting outdoor furniture!), I am trying to do those things at a more relaxed pace. In fact, many (if not most) of the things on my list are tasks that I have assigned myself. I guarantee that no one else in my family cares if I clean the laundry room (although visits to the grocery store are harder to put off). Last Saturday, I even read the entire morning paper while still in my pajamas, and the world did not end. Back in the days of the pandemic, I instituted “screen free Sunday afternoons” for my family–we would have a picnic in a park and go for a hike–and I so enjoyed those lazy hours together with nary a task to accomplish. Why not have similar relaxing afternoons now?
These thoughts have had a soundtrack in my head: the first few lines of Simon and Garfunkel’s classic hit, The 59th Street Bridge Song. “Slow down, you move too fast. You got to make the morning last. Just kicking down the cobblestones, looking for fun and feelin’ groovy.” Just for fun, I looked up the lyrics to the entire song, and although I doubt I’ll ever get the feeling of no deeds to do and no promises to keep mentioned in the last stanza, I love the last few lines even more than the beginning: “Let the morning time drop all its petals on me. Life, I love you. All is groovy.”
Life, I love you. Even on busy days, even on dark days, I can find a moment to slow down and smile. Notice a beautiful flower. Send a postcard to a friend. Read a chapter in a novel. Drink an extra cup of tea. Eat a (small!) delicious piece of chocolate. Say hello to a neighbor. Write a joyful blog post. Or just don’t race through the grocery store like my hair is on fire. It’s true that the years are racing by. But as Ferris Bueller said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
