Slow Down on Purpose

I am digging deep into the well of slow.

It’s painful.

As a recovering hustler, I’m leaning into this new way of being.

It’s literally BE-ing rather than doing.

I am waiting. I am walking slower. I am chewing slower. I am responding slower.

I am getting quiet and feeling the sadness of my circumstances, some moments of joy, lots of confusion, allowing those feelings to be there, and honoring them.

I’m letting it flow.

Did I mention it’s painful?

But so, so much better. Softer. Calm.

Yes, I still have those thoughts, “…but if I don’t hustle, will it get done?” “If I don’t plan it, am I leaving money on the table?” “If I slow down, am I no longer important?”

Poof! Be gone, inner critic, while I close my eyes to rest a moment.

In getting in touch with my discomfort, I trust the magic is happening.

My body is opening to a new way to live.

I’m learning. To feel. To breathe. To listen. To notice. To be.

A dear friend sent me this poem, as we are both making efforts to curtail our habitual busy-ness life-pace, and swim against the current of our culture.

It moved me so much, I wanted to share.

Slow down. Grab a cup of something you want to savor. And drink in the words slowly. Maybe twice.

Take your time.

One day you may too realize, slow is where the magic happens.

I Want to Make Heroes of Those Who Slow Down.

How brave you are for slowing down. For not finishing that to-do list.

How courageous you are for not crossing that finish line, because your body said “enough.”

How fearless you are for choosing the quiet of your soul over those voices driving you always towards more.

How bold, how rebellious - you, out there, honoring your own natural rhythm, going against the culture’s breakneck speed.

We tend to make heroes of those hungry with ambition, relentlessly doing, producing always more.

We applaud those who refuse to stop or rest. Who push themselves so hard in the name of achievement, that they sacrifice their body and soul and heart in the process. We celebrate those who are ill or aging but never show it, never slow down, never reveal a moment of vulnerability.

This drivenness can be heroic, at times. It can be necessary for our survival or the greater good.

But,

I want to make heroes of those who slow down.

I want to make heroes of those who listen to their bodies, who do not strive for more than what the soul truly needs.

I want to make heroes of those who do not force or push, but surrender to each moment as it opens.

I want to applaud those who may not be driven towards success as we know it, but instead are nurturing something deep and subtle and needed.

I want to celebrate those brave enough to cease all doing, even for a second, and sit with the ache in their hearts. A task many find harder than summiting the highest peak.

I want to make heroes of those who honor their limitations.

Who are unable to keep up with the busy-ness of our times, yet show up to each profound, necessary moment.

It is truly an act of courage and rebellion to do any such thing, in a world demanding you resist your own self, your own rhythm, your own soul.

And the paradox is, that often when we cease our incessant doing, even for a minute, and listen to that quiet voice within, we discover what it is we absolutely must do, and what instead can fall away.

We finally hear the call towards what serves our soul, and what then will serve the world. Nothing more, nothing less.

A hero is simply someone brave. So come, be softly brave. Be a new, quieter kind of hero. Few may applaud, it’s true, but your soul certainly will.

By Leyla Aylin