The Sacred Slow

The sacred is in the slow.

Slowing down means paying attention. It brings awareness. When I slow down, I notice the feeling of the keys under my fingers, the tapping sounds, my breath. When I take a walk, nature becomes more awe-inspiring. She is intricate, intelligent, organized. 

There's a photographer who takes video of the ocean, slows the video down, and puts it to music. Watching the water build, thousands and thousands of gallons all moving together, is mesmerizing. The crest slowly forms and the wave somersaults over itself. The sun shines through the waves, sparkling and dancing and calling. 

Slowing down is a sort of wooing. A call to notice. Our frenetic lives don't automatically make room for this kind of seduction. The sacred is in the slow. 

My children want me to slow. They need me slow. Stop hurrying from one appointment, one errand, one outing, one activity to the next. They need me to notice. Read a book, take a walk. They need me to slow my mind to be present with them.

Yoga has been one of my greatest teachers in the sacred slow. The breathing in, slowly as the wave builds. Breathing out with control and intention. I notice my hands on the mat, my toes spread wide, my muscles flexing and stretching. I notice my mind.  My mind is the birthplace of the sacred slow. It's not even about self-control or internal motivation. It's not about discipline. It's about the slowing itself. When I slow, and I see, it pushes the movement of stillness forward. It gathers momentum and builds to a hunger for the sacred slow. Even as I type this, when I slow, it brings awareness to my shoulders, tensed for no reason. Over and over again I notice the tension and use my breath to shrug them down. For a moment I close my eyes and notice.

The sacred slow calls to our humanity. It helps us wake up to the important things in life, the things that matter, the things that spark our joy, curiosity, wonder, awe. It's most easily done for me in nature. Nature tells us we have time to slow down for a moment. The plants creep and stretch towards the sun, the moss slowly overtakes the rocks and trees, the water unhurriedly makes a way for itself. 

Most of life is not living in the slow, which is why

the sacred is in the slow.