If Humanity is to Grow, it Must Slow Down
I’ve been in Italy now for about a week, and my most keen observation is this: far too many of us humans have come to accept a way of living which is in complete and total opposition to what actually supports a deep and well-lived life.
We move too much, too fast, rushing from one thing or place to the next, afraid to miss out or scared we will be taken advantage of, deeply weary of one another, and in the process we let our fears and trials rob us of treating other humans with warmth and kindness.
Perhaps this is a bit of an extreme statement to write, and certainly, not everyone lives like this (to be fair, I certainly don’t when I am at home), but it is my observation having now traveled to a few different cities in this beautiful, richly historical and heavily visited country.
I don’t know what it is, exactly; I sometimes wonder if it is the aftermath of the pandemic we all went through — too many of us cooped up for too long, trying to make up for “lost” time (though truthfully, time never need be lost if you so choose, and it is always a choice, you know).
No matter the reason, the outcome of moving around and living even just a few short days like this remains the same: we become tired, disconnected, and cold. Our nervous systems go into over-drive in response to constant and abrupt stimulation of our surroundings — the sounds of the city, the people rushing about, the alerts on our phones — there is so much, and my point here is this: it is simply too much.
Too much for a sensitive soul, a sensitive heart (which, deep down I do believe the human heart and soul are innately sensitive, even if, perhaps, some of us feel it more than others).
This would not worry me so, and perhaps it is less of a worry and more of an observation of what happens when so many humans are running around with over-stimulated nervous systems, which is this: we are less kind, less warm, less open — less all of the things which so many of us strive for and wish to see in the world. And we are less of these things because our bodies are stuck simply trying to survive.
Because that is how it goes: first, we must feel safe to be open and kind. Survival will always come first for humans; it will always trump thinking of others (unless, of course, you have become aware enough and exercised your mind enough to actively make a different choice).
In these places, where hustle and bustle is accepted as normal, it is not easy to feel safe. And the longer we feel unsafe, the colder and more distant we become.
It is the normal response to such an environment, and so I find no fault in anyone who might find themselves in such a space, and yet, if we are to ever progress and move humanity forward, we must learn to discern for ourselves when we feel this way, and cultivate the courage and strength to make choices to put ourselves in spaces where we can rest our bodies, and in doing so, reconnect to our hearts.
It is the way we move ourselves and each other forward; the foundation on which we build new worlds and ways of living which are rooted in the expansive, re-generative powers of the earth.
It is the reason we are seeing a small, but insightful group of individuals coming about and speaking to the benefits of slow living, because it is in moving slowly that we are able to relax, lay down our worries, and find the safety our bodies and minds so deeply crave and prioritize.
If there was ever something I firmly believed it, it would be this: that no matter how long it has been since we felt safe, it is always possible to find safety again, to reconnect to our deepest, most innate power and truth, and in doing so, create space for others to do the same — creating, together, a more beautiful world for us all.
AUTHOR’S NOTE#100daysofwriting | This essay is the eleventh in a series of 100 I am challenging myself to write before the end of the year 2022. As of today, 93 days remain. Will the essays be perfect? No. Will they be done? Yes. As a life-long recovering perfectionist who loves to write but fears subpar work, to write with such frequency and disregard for most standards except the one that asks, is it published? will be an adventure, to say the least.
Topics, I’m sure, will span the breadth of seriousness to silliness, will cover the grounds of spirituality to observations I may make in a nail salon, but truthfully, there are no promises in such a challenge, except to say that yes — they will be done.
You can keep up with my writing challenge by following me on Medium, or subscribing to my email list.