My husband and I have a standing joke about traveling Amtrak. When we first started doing it, it seemed like there’d always be someone who would board, take a seat in front of or behind us, whip out a cell phone, make a call and say, “Hello, I’m on the train.”
And so now, whenever we settle into our seats, we look at each other and one of us will say, “We’re on the train!”
This Christmas our little joke took on new meaning. When we arrived in New Haven, our usual point of departure, the long-term parking lot in the station was full and so were all the others in the surrounding area. This had never happened before. It was beginning to look doubtful that we would be able to get on that train.
As the minutes ticked away, my husband drove around like a maniac, hopping from red light to red light, looking in vain for a lot that didn’t have a sign that said FULL in front, while I kept saying we needed to pull over, get information and pause to consider our options.
On our third circuit of Union Station, he finally heard me. He pulled into the passenger drop-off area in front where just it so happened that Santa Claus was waiting to give us what we most needed for Christmas—a parking space.
Slowing down requires disengagement, but this is more and more being seen as something we are only willing to allow ourselves to indulge in during special times, a long weekend or a vacation or even retirement.
A man bearing an uncanny resemblance to Kris Kringle, but in a florescent yellow vest with SECURITY in large black letters instead of a red suit, asked how he could help and when we told him our problem he took out a cell phone and called a friend in the garage who said that there was one spot left on the roof. We made the train, literally with seconds to spare.
One of the things I’d wanted to use the time on the train for was to write a New Year’s column about the benefits of slowing down. I hadn’t expected my idea to be given a jump start by a real time experience.
When I told my daughter I’d be traveling by rail to make my Christmas visits, she said wistfully, “The train is like writing a letter instead of sending an email.”
How many people do you know who write real letters? Or even notes on their Christmas card?
Like most of those in the younger-than-I-am generations, my daughter is well-versed in all forms of electronic communication, yet she still looks for ways of slowing down. She takes her son on the train to Radio City Music Hall to see the Rockettes, and occasionally writes me a real hold-in-your-hand letter.
What’s interesting is that she has to give herself permission to do these things. Instant-response, fast-paced sorts of activities, like her morning run, are a more natural part of her daily rhythm. But she’s not alone in her desire for alternatives to a fast-forward way of life.
In earlier columns I’ve talked about taking a “time out,” but it’s gotten to the point where suggesting that someone not text back immediately or unplug altogether seems pretty radical.
A photo from the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy showing a jumble of cords and cell phones being recharged at a shrine of the Virgin Mary recently brought this home to me.
In an emergency, devices like these become lifelines, but on ordinary days they allow us to make trivial details of our lives seem urgent.
Over time, the spaces in our daily lives we set apart for quiet reflection are, like the shrine, overcome by the electronic devices we use to connect with others and we risk losing touch with what’s going on inside of us.
Slowing down requires disengagement, but this is more and more being seen as something we are only willing to allow ourselves to indulge in during special times, a long weekend or a vacation or even retirement.
The alternate to living life without rest stops has become like a piece of jewelry worn on rare occasions and kept in a box the rest of the time where it neither gives us as much pleasure nor adds as much luster to our daily life as it could if we made regular use of it.
If we don’t practice slowing down on a day-to-day basis and continually push back against the frenetic pace induced by technology and a culture of instant gratification, we will drain ourselves dry.
Only by regularly exercising the capacity to pull back, pause and regroup will we be able to deal effectively with both the immediate and long-term challenges in our lives.
Lovely thoughts on giving ourselves times of rest and serenity. Hope the new year brings us these gifts in abundance.
Blessings from your friend,
Thea
@Thea Jarvis,
Like you at the piano with the grandchildren. Bev
Slowing down is one of the gifts of retirement. I’m luxuriating in having time to do what I want to do, when I want to do it…or not doing anything at all. I liked your analogy of the jewelry box. It reminded me of some of my grandmother’s china that has been moved and stored for many years and brought only for “special occasions” until this past fall. It is now being used on a daily basis…and enjoyed, especially when my daughter and grandson visit. Happy New Year!
Some people have trouble enjoying having so much time and space in retirement, but it sounds like you’ve created a structure that both supports you and give you freedom.
I love the reference to using the good china. When my grandmother died we found a full draw of “too nice for everyday” slips she’d never worn, most of them gifts from family members. It made us sad she had not enjoyed them.
Thanks for your comments, Bev
I always enjoy my monthly newsletter visit with you, Bev. All too often I think that I would like to thank you or comment on your message – yet I do not take the time. This seems the perfect opportunity to do so. Another insightful and thought-provoking column. I so easily ignore the need for slowing down. Thanks for the reminder.
@Kimberly Van Camp,Thank you, Kim, for underscoring how hard it is, even when we really want to, “to taking the time” to do things that connect us to others and ourselves. I like feeling connected to you. It makes the work it takes to write a monthly column worthwhile. Bev
Love the juxtaposition of the re-charging electronics with the Virgin Mary! How perfect a visual for this wonderful message. Thank you, Bev for making the case for reflection. As a core introvert, I’ve come to understand that I need regular quiet time alone, and I make sure that I get it. I wonder if extroverts also need this, but to a lesser extent — ?
@Sharon Teitelbaum,
I tried to find the Virgin Mary image again without success, so I’m glad the description resonated with you. I can tell you as an aging extrovert I very much need quiet time ( writing serves this purpose well for me). Of course, Jung said we’d be attracted to the opposite pole and seek integration. I’m finding the balance delightful. Thank you for commenting. Bev
Happy New Year, Bev!
I adore trains as well as the gentle rocking motion is so relaxing and you can spread out, not to mention the lovely water views in CT. The battle cry of women today seems to be the desire for stillness. We have to slow down to be still and listen to our intuition and inner wisdom and to just rest. I sprained my driving ankle about 6 weeks ago and Slow is my new MO. I miss my freedom to just get in the car and go, but Slow is illuminating. I have been writing articles and hand-written notes to people and clearing both physical and mental clutter and finally tackling some administrivia monsters that need to be excavated. I made a new intention mandala for the year about chilling out and enjoying the moment. As always, thank you for your wise prompt!
Gail
@Gail McMeekin, I sorry about your ankle and celebrate how you’ve turned a disruptive (and painful) situation in to a learning opportunity. I’m not sure stillness can be a “battle cry” because we’ll give it too much urgency and work too hard at it (as women do) which is what gets us in trouble to begin with! I think it has to be an inner longing which we begin to honor in tiny ways (e.g. a deep breath before we move to the next task) and/or a discovery we make when we stopped in our tracks, usually by injury or illness, we choose to honor once we go back to unrestricted living.
Best wishes for a speedy recovery, Bev
@Beverly Ryle, I guess battle cry is a bit intense but women seem to talk about it daily. Perhaps longing is a more accurate word!
Gail
Thanks, Bev,
I appreciate the gentle reminder about the need to “slow down” on a regular basis instead of something to do on “special occasions.”
It continues to be my ‘life resolution” instead of just a New Years one. It also reminds me of the phrase I was once told in a community development leadership training. It is, “Go slow to go fast to go far.” I’ll let you conjure images of what that means for you.
I really enjoy your newsletter and look forward to a the “special time” I start my own.
With warmth and respect,
Willa
@Willa Smith, Thank you, Willa for the insightful mantra “Go slow to go fast to go far” and for permission to visualize and apply it any way I like…Bev
Hello Bev!
This is a great quote, “If we don’t practice slowing down on a day-to-day basis and continually push back against the frenetic pace induced by technology and a culture of instant gratification, we will drain ourselves dry.” How true!
From the oasis of a sabbatical, I know this will be so important upon return.
Glad to read your wise words . . .
Hilary
@Hilary Marcus, Thank you, Hilary, for modeling taking a long break from the frenetic pace. Please link my readers to you blog so they can learn more about your sabbatical. Bev
Happy to do so Bev. Here’s the link to today’s post:
http://hilarymarcus.com/blog/2013/01/18/on-revisiting/
Feel free to share with others who may be interested.
Hilary