Slowing Down

One of the biggest themes of this past year that I’ve tried hard to learn is to: slow down, like actually, slow down. I’ve felt the need to slow down for years. In myself, I’ve felt the race to do more and experience more. I’ve felt being pulled in so many directions, that I might be torn to pieces. I’ve felt being wound so tight that I snap and yell at my most beloveds. In my students, I’ve seen their own race, their fear of not being enough, their anxiety and stress. Stress?! At so young?! What can they be stressed about? Unfortunately, this is the culture we have created. We are teaching our young ones that their worth is based upon their skills, their grades, how much and how fast they can accomplish…stuff. How can I teach them anything different when I’m running this same race to…where exactly? I’ve been trying for years to slow down, to remember what feeds my soul, but it is incredible how hard it is to put it into practice. It is difficult to say ‘no’ to the many solicitations a day to fill my time, when my only justification for saying ‘no’ is something like; I was hoping to sit outside in the garden and watch my kids playing or I was going to cook dinner from scratch or even just, I need to have several unscheduled days so my kids and I can rest, be available to life, and create enough spaciousness in our day that free time is actually free. I have always been so afraid to miss out on something. The irony is I’ve missed out on so much more, because in trying to do everything, I end up doing nothing, at least nothing in which I’m truly present and free.

“And every day, the world will drag you by the hand, yelling, “This is important! And this is important! And this is important! You need to worry about this! And this! And this!” And each day, it’s up to you to yank your hand back, put it on your heart and say, “No. This is what’s important.” 
― Iain Thomas

When I was in Honduras with Heart’s Home, we tried to practice hospitality and availability. The word for ‘available’ in Spanish is ‘disponible’. We have to remain ‘disponible’ if we wish to truly listen to an unexpected guest, we have to remain ‘disponible’ if we wish to hear the quiet promptings of the Holy Spirit, we have to remain ‘disponible’ if we wish to respond to our children’s cries (real and metaphorical) with something other than impatience and frustration. Remaining available means allowing silence, stillness, and slowness into our lives. Otherwise, the loud, the quick, the productive will take over. There is nothing inherently wrong with productivity, but I have realized the most meaningful parts of our lives tend to have little to do with productivity- sharing a meal, spending time, participating in an art form, going for a walk, praying. These are the things that are life-giving, yet when I get busy and stressed these are the first things to get cut. Isn’t a meal about so much more than the calories to feed my body, a walk so much more than the muscles that may be strengthened? My soul is starving, quite literally, in this busy and productive world I have created for myself.

Please don’t imagine that I have figured out how to sit and contemplate nature all day. Anyone who has lived with a toddler and a baby knows that life is anything but silent and still. But, I have gotten a little bit better at saying ‘no’ to things that don’t matter quite as much, including things that are really quite good in and of themselves. I’ve practiced saying ‘yes’ freely, so that I can truly commit and enjoy and be engaged in this moment, rather than trying to be in multiple places in the same moment. I have graciously been given a life that is full, but not overbearing.

How many times in my life have I passed up the sacred moments of the present, the sacred moments of the ordinary, even monotonous, because I was seeking something louder, more exciting, more productive? In doing so, I have devalued my role as a mother. Josiah has started telling me, “Mom, don’t say ‘yeah’” when he hears in my ‘yeah’ the voice of someone who is actually very far away thinking of a hundred other things. He recognizes instinctively when I’m not present, when I’m trying to do too much, worry about too much, carry too much. I’m grateful for his honest reminder to come back to now, to be attentive to his little story or “owie” or whatever it is. He reminds me that our culture that glorifies “busy” is actually doing a lot of damage to ourselves and others.

“It may be the real reason we are here: to love each other and to eat each other’s cooking and say it was good.” -Brian Andreas