SLOW

Two weeks ago I quit my job, a job that was safe, that paid good money but way sucking me dry.

Two weeks later, no regrets.

I appreciate that two weeks is probably too short a time to have regrets, but I don’t. I don’t because I have walked away from an environment that was too hectic, too disorganised, and too reactive. So much so that it had drained me physically, emotionally and mentally. To the point where I could barely think straight. To the point where I craved ‘slow’.

In the past two weeks I have been practicing ‘slow’ and believe me when I say that sometimes you really have to put some energy into being ‘slow’.

‘Slow’ isn’t veg’ing out in front of the TV or playing games on the computer or catching up on Facebook or talking on the phone, ‘slow’ is much more than that. ‘Slow’ is, well much slower.

Yoga is fantastic for ‘slow’. Not because it is actually slow, often yoga is very fast, but because to do yoga your mind needs to be ‘slow’.

On Friday nights I attend a Yin yoga class where we practice the very art of being ‘slow’. In this class we learn stillness of mind, patience of body and freedom of spirit. We learn ‘slow’. We do this through yoga poses that are held for long periods of time to challenge our need for haste, our desire for comfort, and our longing to move onto the next pose. We find the ‘slow’ in our minds and in own bodies and push through our discomfort and impatience.

But you don’t always need yoga to find your ‘slow’. ‘Slow’ exists everywhere, with the possible exception of a workplace full of nervous energy.

This week I found ‘slow’ while washing the dishes. I found it in the temperature of the water, in the texture of the soap suds on my hands and in the squeaky smoothness of the plates. I found ‘slow’ in a batch of cup-cakes that I baked. I found it in the words of the recipe, in the taste of the batter and in the heat of the oven. I found ‘slow’ whilst potting up some herbs. It was in the colour of the plants, in the moisture of the soil and in the heaviness of the pots. And this morning, as I write this, I am finding ‘slow’ within the curves of the letters on the pages, in the scratch of a pen on paper and in the search for just the right word. It is also just outside my window, in the song of the birds, in the thickening of the morning mist and in the first faint pink glow of the sunrise. ‘Slow’ can be, is very beautiful.

Today I hope you find you’re ‘slow’. Don’t look too hard for it. It’s not that far away. 

In a world that is abuzz with so much stimulation, positive and negative, ‘slow’ can be a powerful healer. For me, ‘slow’ fills the holes that a hectic, unforgiving life can create. I need ‘slow’ to fill me up, plug up my ‘holes’ and make me whole again. 

I need my ‘slow’ so that I can be me.