Slow Down and Smell the Roses
Several years ago a friend of mine and his family took one of those popular “See Europe in 10 Days” vacations. At the end of the trip, they were less than thrilled with their experience. Their disappointment wasn’t that the places they visited weren’t as beautiful as the brochures had advertised, or that the travel itinerary hadn’t met their expectations. Every day was filled to the brim with exciting activities, stunning scenery, and novel cultural delights.
And that was the problem. They became disenchanted with their once in a lifetime holiday because they had visited so many places in such a short span of time, they couldn’t remember and connect the various attractions with the appropriate city or, in some cases, even the right country.
On the return flight back to the States the son began to ask his dad a few questions about their trip. “Dad, was the Coliseum in Rome or Florence? That castle we toured, where was that exactly? Do you remember the city where we took a boat ride? Was that in Prague or Berlin? And what was the name of that fabulous restaurant in Paris? It was Paris, wasn’t it?” The questions continued as they both tried to remember details about their trip.
The family had tried to crowd too many things in too short of a time frame. As a result, their memories were scrambled, and while certain things stood out, their overall impressions of Europe were jumbled. The wonderful cities they visited—the museums, the works of art, the medieval castles, and the great cathedrals—were hazy mental images disconnected from specific places. Even when they looked at the photos taken on their cell phones, they couldn’t identify where the pictures were taken nor the events that happened on that particular day.
Rushing from one city to another, from one country to another, is certainly not the ideal way to absorb European culture or history. Unfortunately, in our fast-paced society, it is not just trips that run together. For all too many of us, life runs together. We try to crowd so many activities and experiences into a single day that everything becomes blurred. Few things stand out. Few things are of lasting value. We live as though we are on a treadmill, where we keep going faster and faster but never really get anywhere.
We race through life, seldom finding the time to savor a special moment or cherish an individual day. Consequently, the really important events and times in our lives become muddled or sometimes completely lost. When we hurry from one experience to the next, we can soon lose perspective and substitute things of lesser importance for what we know, way down deep inside, to be most dear.
Perhaps by intentionally slowing down our lives we can see more clearly what is of greatest value. When we slow down to smell the roses, we may rediscover our purpose on earth which had gotten lost in the hustle and bustle of the modern world.
The wonderful writer and story-teller Wendell Berry tells of the time he left his home in Atlanta to drive to his mountain cabin several hours away. He was eager to reach his writer’s retreat and drove as fast as the speed limit would allow. When he finally steered his car into the drive way, took the luggage out of the trunk, and made his way into the house, he realized that his spirit was still back in Atlanta. He felt at a loss, disorganized, and unsettled. It was not until the next afternoon that his spirit finally arrived at his mountain home. For almost 24 hours he felt disoriented, as though he was split in two and not a completely whole person.
My guess is that many of us can identify with Berry. Our lives are so crowded with stuff, going from one place to another, from one event to the next, that we sometimes feel an emptiness within because our spirits have been left behind. We rush to get things done, to accomplish more and more, to meet the next deadline, or finish the next project. In the process, we forget to breathe deeply, to take stock of our lives, and value the sacred within the present moment, the only time that is truly ours. We can be so eager for what lies ahead that we fail to savor the now. For us to see and experience the now necessitates a slower pace, a more thoughtful, intentional, way of living that creates space for us to absorb what is truly precious in life, for holy moments are not easily or casually recognized.
A fifteen-year-old son stutters and stammers in front of his busy and preoccupied father, finally blurting out, “Dad, I need to talk to you.” But the Dad has work to do, deadlines to meet, personal things he wants to accomplish and puts off his son. “How about tomorrow afternoon, after work?” he offhandedly replies. The son disappointedly nods, turns, and walks back to his room, head hung between his drooped shoulders.
A sacred slice of time has been missed. A potential bonding between father and son has been lost, maybe for all eternity. Their lives have grown a little further apart, making the next conversation even more difficult.
One night after dinner a wife says to her husband, “We need to talk.” The husband loves his wife, cares deeply for her, but the ballgame is about to start. All week long he has anticipated the big game. “Sure, honey,” he says, “Right after the game, we’ll have time.”
The wife stares at her husband for a moment, turns and goes to the bedroom and slowly closes the door. Later, when the game is over, the husband finds his wife asleep. It doesn’t matter, though. He has forgotten about his promise to talk. He climbs into bed, oblivious to his wife’s feelings. Another sacred moment has been lost. An opportunity to build a stronger relationship has been forfeited in favor of an amusement that has no lasting or significant value. It was only a game!
The important things in life require time and patience. In our technological age too many of us want our relationships to work the same way computers operate. Type in a request or question, press enter, and the answer immediately appears on the screen. That may work fine with computers, but that isn’t the way relationships work in the real world. Relationships must be cultivated over time, require understanding and patience, attentiveness, and can never be rushed. The old adage, “Haste makes waste,” has never been truer than in today’s world where continuous activities and distractions compete for our time.
I get that people are busy, pressed to keep up and not fall behind. We were told that our technological age would give us more time—time for relationships, for spouses, for children, for life, but, if anything, the modern world and the era of round-the-clock amusements have endangered our ability to relate to each other in meaningful ways. Too many of us will go to our graves without having taken the time to immerse ourselves in the values that are of eternal significance.
We can’t turn back the clock, but maybe we can slow it down. Prioritize what you hold most dear. Focus on what you can’t afford to lose. Step off the treadmill from time to time. Stop occasionally and smell the roses. Allow time for your spirit to catch up! I can’t think of a better New Year’s resolution!