Moving Slowly in a Fast World

The world feels fast: fast food, high-speed trains, supersonic planes. Tech companies move fast and break things. People want things now, resulting in instant Jell-O, instant messaging and Instant Pot.

I’m slow. I read slowly, write slowly, learn slowly. I’m thorough; detail-oriented.

This fault-line between my slow-motion style and the world’s fast-motion expectations sometimes leaves me feeling deficient, concerned I lack a societally-valued trait.

My discomfort intensifies when I try to learn something new. I plod through my learning while images of Neo from The Matrix appear, skills and knowledge insta-loaded into his memory.

I’ve wrestled with this aspect of my personality, being self-critical when I take too long to learn something, aching to speed things up.  Expecting something other than what is.

The Judge and the Dishes

When Bubba and I met, we each had years of experience loading dishwashers. The thing is, we didn’t load them the same way. And since each of us was sure “our” way was the “right” way, we had to deal with some relationship hiccups as we figured things out.

Routine aspects of life give me regular opportunities to “figure things out.” That usually means trying to understand the inner voices that chirp away when, for instance, I see Bubba do something my Inner Judge insists is just not right.

Maybe he’s putting forks into the dishwasher tines-down.

“The tines won’t get properly washed!” The Judge says, absolute in her declaration.

Whiny Words

A song came on Pandora, a recent country hit. Two verses played before she stomped across the room and hit the “thumbs down” button.  Her ex-boyfriend had previously “liked” it.

“Stupid song,” she whined to her roommate. “Too damn bad we can’t “unlike” some of our stupid, whiny friends this way.”

Her roommate looked away and silently agreed.

Daily Post-Inspired: Song

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Stormy Mind

Bubba ordered four slices of bacon at the meat counter yesterday. The butcher picked and packed and wrapped and handed him his parcel. He paid, brought it home, and tucked it in the fridge.

“You feel like bacon?” he asked me this morning.

Today would be a good day: bacon-and-eggs.  Bubba cooks bacon via a slow-bake process that produces perfection.

He was in the kitchen, getting the bacon started.  Minutes later he came out to the living room, where I was reading the paper.

“I ordered four pieces of bacon,” Bubba said, mildly agitated. “But I just opened the package and the butcher put five pieces in!”

I tilted my head, waiting.

“There’s a part of me that claims ‘that’s not right!’ He heard me order four pieces but he didn’t do that.  I can feel myself getting all righteous about it; wanting to go back and call him on it.”

“The thing is,” he continued, “I don’t want that negative energy stomping around in my brain. And yet, there it is.”

So many moments in life where thoughts and feelings come up, whether we want them to or not. The more I pay attention–not just to my own mind but to others–the more I start noticing it everywhere.

Bubba shook his head as he headed back to the kitchen. The negative energy drifted off. Bubba cooked five pieces of bacon. And we ate it all.

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