The power of slow
How we find sparks of connection and peace when we choose to stop rushing
Ever so quick announcement!
I just launched my new program What Comes Next. It’s for those of you who know you’re meant to be doing something different - something bolder, or softer, or kinder, or more meaningful - but you’re not exactly sure what. It’s DELIGHTFUL and FUN and it’ll change your life in all the right ways. Six weeks of learning, reflecting and panning for your GOLD (your Giant, Outrageous, Liberating Dream) with me as your guide. Let’s go!
To find out more + register, head here.
Pursuing slow, letting go of efficiency
and reaping the rewards
A gentle suggestion, dear reader. Take a breath before reading this. Maybe three. The following words aren’t full of quick fixes. If you try to scan for a defined number of life hacks promising immediate gratification, you’ll likely be disappointed. This is a post to enjoy with a cuppa, and maybe a biscuit to keep your steaming mug of something-or-other company.
Somewhat belatedly, I’m preparing the soil for our Spring garden. My body aches as I work out how best to plunge the heavy fork into the layers of ash, hay, compost and soil, then turn them over effectively. I have no chance of doing this gracefully. My winter-soft body is sweating in the midday sun. My back, far more used to sitting still in front of a laptop, aches from manual labour. My progress is infinitesimal, and for a moment I consider giving up.
Going slowly does not come naturally to me. Efficiency was drummed in early. As a child, my Dad and I would line up in two separate queues at the supermarket, my Dad in one and me in the other. At the very last minute, one of us would scurry to join the other in the queue that ended up being the fastest. We Munros are not huge fans of waiting a second longer than we have to. Old habits die hard; Ben now looks bemused when I shout out supermarket sections like a Sergeant General to our kids. “You’re on dairy! You get the frozen stuff! I’m on pantry items! You do the laundry and bathroom section! We’ll meet at the checkout in seven minutes! Go go go!”. More than once he’s said to me “can’t we just enjoy shopping together?”. No. We cannot. The quickest worm gets the groceries, or something like that.
I do many things quickly. I write quickly, think quickly, make decisions quickly, design keynotes, programs and events quickly. I read so quickly that I can devour a not-insubstantial novel in one evening.
I do NOT garden quickly.
And neither does a garden bear vegetables quickly. Everything about my task today is slow. The ash has been gathered from our winter fires, which were set painstakingly, enjoyed thoroughly, then swept out to help our veggies grow. The hay is nutrient-rich thanks to our chickens’ bottoms, and looking after the owners of said bottoms has taken a whole season of feeding, watering and nurturing. The compost contains six months’ worth of scraps that have been collected every time we cook, then deposited and turned every time the bin gets full.
I have a vivid memory of a former boss of mine, a brilliant genius if there ever was one, hearing me talk about the veggie patch I was growing in my tiny Melbourne courtyard and asking me, bemusedly:
“WHY would you do that? When you can buy vegetables in a supermarket in three minutes, why on earth would you spend three hours gardening?”
I was too awed by him back then to be able to think quickly enough to respond cleverly or coherently. Twenty years later, I have a better idea of the reply I might have given.
Because pursuing slowness is sometimes good.
Because quick fixes may provide immediate bursts of pleasure, but long, slow and important projects, tended to lovingly over time, provide more sustained satisfaction.
Because growing something from scratch is rewarding.
Because I like knowing where my food comes from.
Because peas, freshly picked and prised from their pods, taste heaven-sent.
(Same goes for potatoes, dug out of the soil then washed, boiled, strained and doused in butter, salt and dill).
Because when we go slow, we are gifted a reminder of life’s natural rhythm:
wait, prepare, sow, water, wait, weed, wait, harvest and repeat.
Connecting to this rhythm connects us to the pulse of our planet. We slow down. We breathe. We take our time. We relax. We centre ourselves. From this place, we make better decisions. From this place, we heal our minds and bodies. In this place, we come back to peace.
As I move down the rows of one of the beds, I eventually find a rhythm that works for me. Pitch, turn, lift. Pitch, turn, lift. A riot of kookaburras starts laughing, and the lambs next door bleat happily. Tonight I’ll sow basil, eggplant and tomatoes. By summer, we’ll be gorging on them. For now, we work and we wait.
Gentle nudges towards …
Courage
✨ Here’s a playlist that I pulled together for moments I need to sit my bum down and get on with work that feels a bit daunting. I called it my GSD playlist: music to listen to when you need to Get Shit Done.
Change
✨ As mentioned above, the ‘What Comes Next?’ program is open for registration! If you’re ready to make a change - to get clear on what comes next for you and to start taking inspired action - you can find out more and sign up here.
Clarity
✨ I recently read the most wonderful book on healing the parts of us that we’ve protected, sometimes unwittingly, for many years. It’s called ‘You’re The One That You Want’ and it’s by Richard Schwartz, the founder of the Internal Family Systems model of therapy. If you have ouchy bits that you’re ready to understand, I really recommend it.
Connection
✨ You may have seen that I launched a new podcast with dear mates Taryn Brumfitt and Mia Handshin called The Oyster Sisters. It’s all about creating connection by sharing our wobbly bits, and it’s hearteningly (and somewhat relievingly!) receiving rave reviews. You can listen here.
✨ If you’re part of a team or workplace looking to boost connection, collaboration and trust, I have a masterclass called The Power of Relationships that has also been receiving rave reviews. If you’d like some info, head here and I’ll be back in touch with you.
Today’s clarifying question:
If you knew you would be fully supported, what would you do?
Wishing you love, peace and freedom, in exactly the right amounts and delivered at exactly the right time,
Gemma 💛