The Art of Slow
Over the last five weeks I’ve been under the weather. Just not feeling 100%. This is something that has happened to me from time to time for sometimes days, sometimes weeks throughout my adult life. I have gleaned that it’s my body telling me it’s time to slow down and take inventory.
In the past it’s frustrated me because it always seems to happen at times where I do not have the space to stop. When my to-do list is long, or my schedule is suddenly packed, or I have exams or projects, deadlines or commitments.
“Yesterday’s Storms” in progress in my studio
This time, I felt run-down for longer than usual. There were 10 days or a week at a time where I didn’t pick-up a paintbrush, where emails went unanswered, deadlines and appointments got pushed. But this time instead of resisting it, I finally gave in and just let myself feel weak and tired and slow.
Slow.
There’s a word, one with which I’m familiar. One that’s always bothered me a little. A word that, I think, when used to describe someone or something, typically has a relatively negative connotation. You see, I’ve always been a little slow. Usually late, the last one to leave the house, the one who doesn’t grab my phone to respond right away, I was always the last to leave class, even the last one to leave a zoom meeting (I can just never get my cursor to that darn “leave the meeting” button fast enough). When I was a kid, a common phrase I heard was “c’mon Katie!” I’ve always felt a little like the earth is spinning a few seconds faster than I do.
I’ll be honest, the world we live in today wasn’t built for people like me. Deadlines are tough, structure is not my strong-suit, organization has never been my best skill. I’ve spent a lot of energy fretting over falling behind and being frustrated with myself for not running as fast as everyone else (literally and metaphorically). It’s taken until now for me to finally stop beating myself up for needing to move more slowly. What if I started to love that part of myself instead of resisting it or shaming it, or trying to change it?
“Reflections” 12x16
From a different angle I can say, I’m actually really good at being slow. Because of this, I’m also excellent at noticing the beauty in the world. I don’t power-walk through the woods, I stroll. I’m good at taking my time and paying attention to details. I’m good at being patient, working at something for a long period of time and lending my energy to it. I’m good at getting lost in flow and letting something I love carry me away. I’m good at letting the colors in a sunset bring tears to my eyes. I’m good at listening to the sound of the river and surrendering to its song.
I’ve realized that life feels so much easier as I’ve started appreciating the natural pace at which my spirit wants to live. I am designing a life for myself that allows me to move through it at a pace that’s more comfortable for me.
Maybe that’s what our world needs — slow. Maybe we could use a little less competition, a little less “hurry up,” a little less cram-it-all-in. I know I could.