Stop. Look. Listen.

Some things require a degree of haste: eating an ice cream cone on a blistering hot day, evacuating from a wildfire, recovering a favourite hat from a thieving gust of wind.

Some things have scurry-flurry imposed onto them: filling the blank spots in our day-planners and buying the only-one-left-final-sale-ends-soon thingumabob-whatsit. We love instant drive-thru express lane tap-and-go convenience.

And we are stressed and exhausted.

I am increasingly appreciating slow.

Slow sunrises that extend for 20 km of the Emerson Trail.

Unhurried conversations that deepen grooves of friendship.

A gently simmering pot of soup on the wood cook stove.

The comfortable camaraderie arising out of 37+ years of commitment to making marriage work.

Extended and undivided attention to the hurts and heartbeats of others. Sometimes the hardest stories to tell require a long quiet listening.

Household routines that divorce harried and frenetic from clean and cozy.

Hand washed dishes.

Homemade bread from freshly ground flour.

Bird watching from the living room window.

Reading a good book. With or without a cup of tea.

Accepting that things that pause or perplex or frustrate are opportunities for serious reflection and contemplation. Living with intentionality and wisdom requires learning to sit with ideas rather than dismissing them too readily -either because they are too familiar or because they are too foreign. In this I am reminded of the religious leaders in Jesus’ day whose worldview had no room for the upside-down lose-your-life-to-find-it kingdom message that Christ lived and proclaimed.

Choosing slower rhythms is a choice to be out of sync with most of what goes on around me.

I am increasingly okay with that 🌿

1 thought on “Stop. Look. Listen.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s