I've noticed...though I too often tend to chafe against it, slowness can have its own kind of joy.
My recent knee surgery has slowed me down. I've been a little chagrined at my frustration over how long it seems to take to get to the places I need to be. I didn't think I was that committed to speed. But, it turns out I am. At the very least, I don't like to be slowed down. That is a little sad.
For one thing, slowness can give us a chance to see things, we otherwise might not. When we slow down or even stop, we can see what else is moving. Because of the surgery, I've had to spend time just sitting. But, being in one spot has enabled me to notice more of what is moving around me—a runner going by, the particularities of a bird winging itself across the sky overhead, leaves flittering in the wind, a man making a sign, and so on.
Life is in motion at so many levels beyond just the one I am on. There is a beauty to it that is independent of my participation, but that also invites it...even if that amounts to no more than just noticing it. I feel an unsuspected joy embedded in this reality—the one I've noticed because of slowness.
