If you lived with me you would often hear me complain about moving at a slower pace.
Buttoning up buttons or arranging the metal portions of zippers so they operate takes me longer and longer these days, which means getting dressed each morning and then undressing at bedtime takes more time than I would like. I see this as cutting into my reading time.
I’ve noticed when eating a meal with my partner, I am sometimes still straightening up my place setting and preparing to begin eating when his plate is halfway empty.
When we decide to go for a walk on the nature trail, especially if it’s cold outside, putting on my scarf, mittens, hat and down coat – with its zipper that always binds with the fabric several places on its ascent – then pulling the hood over my hat and tying the cords to keep the hood secure – plus finding my walking poles and heading out the door takes twice as long as it used to.
I work hard to reframe this slowness; to celebrate the slowing down. I try and convince myself I am moving at a relaxed pace, giving myself a chance to breathe deeply and exercise my lungs. But mostly I experience the feeling of falling behind, never getting everything I want to do accomplished. Never crossing off everything on my to-do list. Sometimes it feels like everything is a race, one that I never win.
The cumulative effect of all this extra buttoning and zipping time is that I don’t accomplish as much in a day, which is frustrating. There’s my complaint.
Do I find any benefits of moving slower as I creep into my seventy-ninth year on the planet?
Sometimes. If I take my time getting up from my morning meditation, I may find myself in a state of wonder. One morning, it struck me how fantastically reliable it is that each morning, it gets light again. I wasn’t thinking of the scientific explanation for how the universe works. I’m caught up in the miracle I’m witnessing. It’s light again! When I’m finally ready to stand up, I marvel at how much effort it takes. But it’s also a miracle I still can!
When I don’t rush to fix my breakfast oats but first take the time to put on a CD of Celtic music on the stereo (Yes, an actual CD and an actual stereo!) to set the mood for the day, I find myself sashaying around with the music.
What a paradox it is to be retired and complain that I’m slowing down and then find the blessing in slowing down, at least sometimes.
IMAGE: Found in our back yard, an example to illustrate the title of this post