Slow down, they keep saying. As if there’s any alternative, any other possible way of moving. The shutters on the windows of the world have closed one by one until it’s just you and your family and your crazy-making brain in 1800 square feet for the foreseeable future. Slow down. Enjoy the time. Find a hobby. Savor this, is what I keep hearing.
Except that’s just some Deepak Chopra-style BS.
The entire country is baking bread. How do I know this? There’s a yeast shortage. Everyone’s finding their inner Julia Child and making a sourdough starter and coq au vin on a Tuesday afternoon while still wearing yesterday’s pajamas. I see the Facebook and Instagram photos and y’all might be my people but that is definitely not my life. Is my house the only house where the volume threatens to shatter the windows, where I haven’t held an uninterrupted conversation in 42 days, where there’s always a sweet but demanding little voice incessantly chanting, “Up! Up! Up” with hands extended? Someone please tell me I’m not the only American who isn’t living inside an edition of Martha Stewart’s Good Living magazine. I cannot take the Pinterest pressure one. more. minute.
I tried, I really did. I spent an entire afternoon hand lettering this thank you card to a friend, only to realize I had no stamps, because who even mails stuff anymore? So I broke my own quarantine today and went to the post office. (You can buy stamps online, but seriously, what kind of sucker pays for postage on a book of stamps?) The woman at the counter there took one look at my beautiful card and proceeded to chew me out because her computer wouldn’t be able to read it. I was perplexed, I truly was. Look, I was slowing down, lady. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing right now? Smelling roses or drawing roses, it’s all the same, right? I took something utilitarian and made it gorgeous and I took my time. I slowed down, dangit – I did the thing!
“Slow down” is just code-speak for “I don’t want to listen to your feelings”. It means that I’m too busy burying my own fear in baking another batch of cookies to recognize your fear. It means I have no answers, just something I heard was good to do. It means I’m circling my wagons and you should, too. Slow down means the things that used to bring me joy are no longer viable options, so let’s just invent new ones instead of facing our own insecurities, our own faults, our own emotions. Slow down is the epitome of privilege, so I’m not gonna say it anymore.
I can’t paint a rosy glow on the situation we’re in right now. School is an unmitigated disaster. The kids are so far out of their normal routine that they’re practically nocturnal. People I love are struggling to pay bills and feed their babies. Relationships are stretched and frayed thin where they shouldn’t be. The things which should always be of foremost importance – kindness, empathy, honesty, community – are gathering dust in the corner for the simple reason that just getting through the day is hard. No one has the emotional bandwidth to look beyond their own shuttered windows. I get it, but that is not who I want to be. I don’t think it’s who we are meant to be. It’s certainly not who I want my children to be.
What if we just stop filling space with busyness and spend that time on relationships? How much more kindness could I show to to my neighbors? How much more empathy could I show my kids who are stretched paper-thin emotionally? How much more time would I have to be honest with myself and my tribe? How strong of a community could I help to build? Someday, the world is going to reopen. Will the version of you who emerges from your front door be wan and needing a carb detox, or will that version of you have faced your fears and taken a step or two towards who you want to be? 2020 can live without more sourdough bread, but we cannot, and should not, live without kindness.
Don’t slow down. Stop burying your issues in a project or a recipe. Jump into them, feet first and without hesitation. Find new ways to show yourself grace. Pour that grace out upon everyone you encounter. The world is full of people in desperate need of that radiance, of a sign that not every window is shuttered against them. Spread compassion over people like butter on bread. One person can always make a difference.
Even a tiny spark will dazzle the eyes inside a darkened room.
My Five Ring Circus 