Pilgrim Letter #2: An ode to slow.
Lombacken, Sweden. Day: 7. Kilometer: 100.
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It was 8:06 am and Connor was still talking.
My precious baby boy was regaling me with tales of his final exam in public economics, then transitioning to a story of travel planning. Then a question about a trip we’d taken when Mike was alive. Then a wardrobe assessment.
But I’d stopped listening at 8:03am.
I had to GO.
Where?
Well, 19 kilometers (about 12 miles) down the road today. And then another 567km to Trondheim, where I hope to arrive on June 28th.
Did I have a place to stay for the night? Yes. Did I have literally all day to get there? Yes again. Any danger of getting lost in darkness if I delayed? Nope, sun set is 10:44pm. I had over 14 hours to walk 12 miles. I could have started at noon and still made it by dinner.
What’s the rush, Deagle?
At work, the madly flapping, early bird was rewarded. Get more done! Squeeze out every last drop! Half-ass listen to my son while checking my watch!
But here’s what happens when I rush on the trail:
I miss moments of connection, with my son or otherwise.
I walk so fast I get shin splints on day three, and then panic I won’t be able to finish the entire thing.
I am so focused on my destination I forget the reason I am even here: to get to know the parts of myself that I didn’t have time for over the last seven years.
There was a time and place for high-tailing it through the day. During my decades as a corporate wonk, I was rewarded for pumping out presentations, staying on top of hundreds of daily emails, and meeting the most outrageous deadlines. But that once-successful strategy now works against my current goals.
Out here, when I do less and I am rewarded by more — more moments of awe, more sighs of relief, more chuckles at the local signs.
My capitalist-trained mind doesn’t know what to do with this truth. “If I’m not working hard, if it doesn’t feel strenuous, what am I achieving??” Oh wait, I’m existing. I’m experiencing life. I’m reconnecting with what I am, regardless of what I do.
Auto-pilot comes in handy when we have a million things to do — we can be doing one thing while simultaneously thinking about another. But many of us have gotten so good at hustling and grinding that we’ve lost the ability to, as Kendall would say, just chill.
We’re afraid that by slowing down we’re missing out. But oftentimes it’s the exact opposite.
What are all the good things we’ve earned worth if we’re not able to slow down and savor them?
Easy does it,
P.S. Here are some of our favorite previous posts about getting out of auto-pilot and into the fullness of life.
Post #35: Enough waiting to “rest in peace”. Appreciating the good things in life while we’re still around to do it.
Post #47: The journey and the destination. Finding meaning in each spin of the hamster wheel.
Post #57: Smashing the reset button. We all have funks. This is how I handle mine.
#61: Trading autopilot for aliveness this New Year. Why and how I choose a Word of the Year.
Post #81: Gratitude as participation in life. I choose to be immersed in it all, good and bad.
A very timely reminder for me. I’m slowly (geddit?) getting better at enjoying each step rather than just the destination
Ah this looks like such a dream! I love that you are able to slow down, unplug, and take in all the sights around you. There's nothing better!