“You do not walk slowly to get away, but rather to stay in contact. People arm in arm lose sight of the world in front of them. They simply listen or talk to the one person in the world important enough to be next to them for the walk.” – A traveler’s journal, Korea.
Mae West once said, “Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.” Although she was probably talking about sex — as she most often was — it’s an observation that applies to many dimensions of our lives. In our limited time between birth and death, we often become obsessed with the destination and lose the art of enjoying the journey. The demand for instant resolution and gratification has replaced the joy of anticipation.
After a lifetime infused with the desire to become someone and do something significant, it has been a humbling experience to finally discover the art of living slowly. It has been a long journey, and has involved sometimes painful explorations of the past, of expectations and of loss. It has taken the support of a close friend as time and priorities fade. But the world has slowed down.
We have wandered around Rosauers and stepped on the crack of every perfectly placed tile square on the floor — have you noticed them? We have spent 10 minutes wandering between the Moscow Bagel and Deli and Champions University Grill & Bar, and noticed the way the street lights of Moscow are perched so perfectly between trees so as to cast delicate shadows on the buildings. Reading in a coffee shop has replaced clubs and meetings. Lying around on the carpet under Christmas lights with red wine and good friends has become not only a wonderful way to spend an evening but also a time of healing.
In his poem “The Paradox of Our Age,” the Dalai Lama said, “We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.”
As technology continues to advance, the challenges of urban society are not going to be the “hard issues,” but are going to be more and more about “soft issues.” Addressing the human need for love, belonging and connection, and taking back the time we have let rule us. In the end, we all disappear and nothing is left but the connections and influence of human relations.
The ancient Greeks said time has two dimensions: Chronos and kairos. Chronos refers to linear time while kairos is the time when special events happen, times they called “the supreme moment.” However, in our single interpretation of linear time we seem to value a college degree or a wad of old germy paper (aka money) as the pinnacle of our existence.
Today, college students resound the same self-gratifying sigh of “Oh, I’m just so busy,” even to close friends. The very idea of friendship is devalued as we try to hurry along and legitimize associations online. Relationships are expedited with texted arranged meeting times and coffee dates, and set expectations of what the relationship should be rather than allowing them to form naturally as lives cross paths.
“How to bring about an orgasm in 30 seconds” was the topic of a recent article in a British magazine. OK, so this example of our hyper-sped society isn’t really all that bad. But it shows how we neglect to savor the truly good moments in life. Moments of anticipation, of silence, of togetherness, of glimpsing the smile of a stranger or feeling the warmth of sunshine as it breaks through clouds.
In the words of West, “Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.” And more than anything else, life is worth it.