Slow down to speed up
I’ve been slipping back into old habits (read: 0 or 100 with no in between) and dug up this piece I wrote in 2020 to remind myself of the lessons learned during the world shutting down.
Pre-pandemic me, much like you lovely readers, was Go Go Go. What have we learned in the 3 years since the world shut down? I have been trying to continue to weave the ‘slow down’ effect into much of my life. Fewer social events. No more panels. No more conferences - and no, I don’t have the space or screen-time capacity to do virtual ones. Am I missing out?
Everything is normal but...not. Simpler. Routine. Boring?
Exhausted.
Grateful.
But restless.
This article about why success won’t make you happy was widely circulated. In my own little bubble, it was mostly shared by other A-type women who saw themselves in the writing and who are keen on connecting with others who might want to force a change in themselves too. In it, the author compares the addiction to success to the addiction of alcohol. Although success isn’t a conventional medical addition, the author goes on to explain that for many people, success has addictive properties.
So, what is enough? How much is enough? If success is an “unconventional addiction”, then will anything ever be enough for those of us that have only ever focused on the pursuit of it? And how do we manage this pursuit of 'success' in these dire global circumstances, especially this all-encompassing slow-down?
Have you ever seen this emotional vocabulary wheel? Originally created by Geoffrey Roberts in his work with people who have limited emotional vocabulary, I was wide-eyed examining this when it was first introduced to me in therapy. Who doesn't love a good colour-coded chart? One little piece didn’t make any sense to me, though. I was baffled that the word “Content” was under the “Happy” label.
This made so little sense to me, in fact, that I spent multiple therapy sessions (and lots of my dollars) unpacking what I felt was a Great Debate over one’s contentedness.
The trouble was that I’d always interpreted the word “content” to be a negative. I thought: to be content is to be idle, thereby ending any pursuit of goals or desires, resulting in a stagnant state. Stagnant is bad, right?
Who was I without being successful in my work? Who was I if I wasn’t trying to continually be better?
So I mustn't ever feel content. I must....suffer. Right?
My wise friend Amandah Wood recommended What If This Were Enough?, a book that digs into this very conundrum. The essays helped shed a light and broaden the self-reflection I had been working hard on. It didn’t help me get to where I need to be, but it was an important step of the journey.
The mélange of self-help media coming at us doesn’t help driven women, either. In fact, it picks away at our weakness. Be better! Journal! Floss! Charcoal mask! Be rid of your impurities! Don’t eat sugar! Did you eat a carb today? You’re terrible! Never stop!
What fresh hell! How can we get to a place of contentment or rest without feeling guilty or afraid of slowing down our path to perceived success?
The global pandemic forced a stillness in me that I long-avoided, and I’ve ultimately made an entire career change and massive lifestyle adjustment because of the lessons it taught me.
To be content is to feel peace in the moment. The little moments are all I can cling to. I try really, really hard to find them.
I see the benefit of finding short stints of idleness in the in-betweens; the wind through the leaves, the echo of my children’s laughter, or the autumn sun on my face have some of their own healing properties. I see, now, only with the forced confines that the pandemic brought, that contentment isn’t meant to be a constant for me, but little breaths between one moment and another. Is that enough?
Isn't Happiness a pursuit, after all?
Slow down to speed up.