Adventures in aging with intention

Mastering The Art Of The Slow Go

“I may be old, but I’m slow.”

There we were, huddled together under a birch tree in Vermont, waiting for the pounding rain to pass so we could resume our hike. Drenched in nature and feeling giddy, I’d just mentioned how great it was to be sharing in this unexpected adventure.

My friend’s statement of the obvious got me giggling. It was so sage-like, and true.

Of course it got me thinking…

If we zoom out for the expansive view of our lives, only with the wisdom of years can we see that slowing down is a good thing. It gives us a chance to be fully present to celebrate each day with gratitude, rather than chasing it.

How often do you rush through the day, desperately attempting to cram in as much as possible, only to be constantly overwhelmed and anxious? It’s been a pattern that’s kept us company for a long while.

We spend much of our energies being pulled in one direction or another. Always on our way to someplace other than where we are. Energy is a finite source that impacts us more as we age.

Slowing down allows us to meet ourselves right where we are now without judgement. In the still point, just as in the eye of the storm, we’re refueled with peace and calm. It gives us a chance to focus on being instead of doing. And you know what that opens – compassion — for ourselves and everyone else who is trying their best too, just like us.

We’re not machines built for production only to be discarded when the moving parts get worn thin.

Just think about all the versions of you over the years, each moment a necessary piece of what made you. Each one contributes to the narrative of your story and how you see yourself.

We live in an age of fast food, the latest trends, quick fixes in 5 easy steps, and the distraction of scrolling snackable content on our phones. It’s easy to become addicted to the rhythm of technology that only skims the surface. Our environment manipulates our behavior more than we realize.

So let’s slow down and honor our lives as a treasured work of art, expansive and constantly in motion.

Try on this perspective: We create our lives by what we bring into them, and we curate our lives by what we choose to keep.

The creator is the part of you that brings something into being. It’s about curiosity, possibility and expression. You make choices, take risks, change direction, share in relationships and dream things into reality.

The curator is the part of you that decides what belongs. You look at what you’ve created and ask if it still has meaning. Still serves you.

We don’t get to choose everything that happens to us. But we have enormous agency over which ones we display on our walls, which ones to restore and which ones to stop showcasing altogether.

All of this takes time. It takes moving at the pace of nature, slow enough to nourish our souls along the way. Years have taught us this. The seasons never rush into the next, so why don’t we share the same patience for the prize of a life of fullness?

We are all masterpieces, walking this earth as a signature of the Divine. Just remember, Michelangelo spent four years on his back to paint a ceiling.

In the long view, we’ve already put in the time. Now we can pause and ask ourselves what to do with all this new awareness – slowly.

 

 

TAKEAWAYS:

You don’t need correcting. You’re a masterpiece still in motion, and every so often it’s worth picking up a brush – not to fix anything, but to add a few gentle touches. Take what calls to you…

 

•  Curate one thing today: Look at what’s on your calendar, your walls, your dinner plate. Ask: does this still serve my highest self? Keep what does. Let the rest go.

 

• Take a pause before the “yes:” Before you agree to the next thing, breathe three times. Meet yourself in the still point before your next move.

 

• Name your creator, name your curator: Journal it. What am I bringing into being right now? What have I outgrown but haven’t let go of?

 

• Do one thing at nature’s pace: Pick a single ordinary act – a walk, a meal, a conversation – and let it take as long as it takes. Notice what you see, smell, or feel when you’re not rushing past it.

 

• Meet rushing with compassion, not criticism: Be the witness. When you catch yourself cramming and chasing, don’t scold yourself. Just notice and slow down to work through it like you would sit in the company of a dear friend.

 

I’d love to hear what this brings up for you. Feel free to share your voice at intentfullyfit@gmail.com

If enjoyed this offering you may also wish to check out “What Can We Learn From Blue Zones?,” “Ever Try Forest Bathing? No Swimsuit Required,” and “Words Matter.”