After I read this article at www.awakin.org, I felt myself relax a little. I wanted to share it with you, in hopes that you might slow down, take a breath, and relax a little, too. David Whyte, if you haven’t heard of him, is a poet, author and public speaker who has some pretty powerful things to say. Here is a piece by David Whyte:
The Great Tragedy of Speed by David Whyte
Speed in work has compensations. Speed gets noticed. Speed is praised by others. Speed is self-important. Speed absolves us. Speed means we don’t really belong to any particular thing or person we are visiting and thus appears to elevate us above the ground of our labors.
When it becomes all-consuming, speed is the ultimate defense, the antidote to stopping and really looking. If we really saw what we were doing and who we had become, we feel we might not survive the stopping and the accompanying self-appraisal. So we don’t stop, and the faster we go, the harder it becomes to stop. We keep moving on whenever any form of true commitment seems to surface.
Speed is also warning, a throbbing, insistent indicator that some cliff edge or other is very near, a sure diagnostic sign that we are living someone else’s life and doing someone else’s work. But speed saves us the pain of all that stopping; speed can be such a balm, a saving grace, a way we tell ourselves, in unconscious ways, that we are really not participating.
“The great tragedy of speed as an answer to the complexities and responsibilities of existence is that very soon we cannot recognize anything or anyone who is not traveling at the same velocity as we are. We see only those moving in the same whirling orbit and only those moving with the same urgency. Soon we begin to suffer a form of amnesia, caused by the blurred vision of velocity itself, where those germane to our humanity are dropped from our minds one by one. We start to lose sight of any colleagues who are moving at a slower pace, and we start to lose sight of the bigger, slower cycles that underlie our work. We especially lose sight of the big, unfolding wave form passing through our lives that is indicative of our central character.
On the personal side, as slaves to speed, we start to lose sight of family members, especially children, or those who are ill or infirm, who are not flying through the world as quickly and determinedly as we are. Just as seriously, we begin to leave behind the parts of our own selves that limp a little, the vulnerabilities that actually give us color and character. We forget that our sanity is dependent on a relationship with longer, more patient cycles extending beyond the urgencies and madness of the office.” —David Whyte
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Don’t you just love what David Whyte has to say? The truth is, I’m not a very speedy person. I believe that the really meaningful things in life take time to create. For instance, it takes me years, sometimes decades, to get my books out into the world. I guess you could see that as a lack of success, but I prefer to see it as the time it takes to create something that has integrity.
What about you? Do you ever feel you’re moving too fast? Too slow? Do you think our vulnerabilities give us “color and character”? I welcome your thoughts and questions.
Good article. One of the most difficult things I’ve had to learn was to allow my short stories to wait. By that I mean, when I finish a story I allow it to sit in the “waiting room” for 6 weeks before I recover it and reread aloud what I’ve put on paper. Then I do markups and make changes and allow it to sit again. All the while, my brain is working on places that I think need smoothing. Slowing down in this manner has helped me produce better copy and obtain better results in acceptance in the market place.
Thanks.
Nancy
I am so annoyed when my husband gets frustrated at red lights or when someone in front of him is going too slowly. But I’ve come to realize I’ve got issues with speed in other areas of life. I love the line in The Sound of Music when the Nazis arrive at the convent gates:” Slowly, slowly.” Must put it into practice!
There is certainly wisdom in that practice, Nancy. I like to think of it as letting a story simmer. Yum.
Oh my. Now I’m having a Sound of Music flashback! I remember that line, too, Barbara. I’ve also had a song in my mind all morning. It dates me, of course, but what doesn’t these days. The lyrics: Slow down, you’re moving too fast. Got to make the morning last…. Yep, I’m Feeling Groovy today. 🙂
Great post, Susan. It reminds me a bit of my latest blog post: https://entertainingwelseyshaw.com/2013/04/18/this-is-social-media-this-is-your-brain-on-social-media/
It worries me that our art has to constantly go faster to keep people interested. In the process we’re dumbing down. I had high hopes for a movie called Hemingway and Gellhorn, because it was directed by the brilliant Philip Kaufman and it seemed like a great idea for a picture. I was sad to see it dumbed down to the point of self-parody. Kaufman’s not stupid so I’m sure the suits wanted it that way. And I hear so many people–professional, “educated” people–saying things like “I won’t give a movie more than ten minutes,” or “If a book’s more than 200 pages I won’t read it.” Or my favorite, “It didn’t have any story. It was just people saying stuff.”
And if you ever go to Salzburg you *must* take the Sound of Music tour. Seriously, it’s one of the most fun things I’ve ever done there. (The gazebo is now in a nearby park, because too many people were coming onto the lawn of the property to be photographed in it.) The big auditorium where they give the concert at the end is *much* smaller than it looks in the film. And if the von Trapps had escaped through the corridor we saw in the film, they’d have ended up in the restroom.
Hi John. I have Hemingway and Gelhorn in my Netflix queue and I am sorry to hear that they dumbed it down. I’ll let you know what I think after I watch it myself. I probably won’t make it to Salzburg, but your report on The Sound of Music tour sounds fascinating!
Well..it was the Tortoise that won the race with the Hare. 😀 Trélys
You really want to make it Salzburg at least once in your life. It’s actually MORE beautiful than what you see in The Sound of Music. No photography, no matter how good, can capture all that beauty.
The best place to stay is the Hotel Amadeus, which butts up against the cemetery where Leopold Mozart (Wolfgang’s father) is buried. He was buried in the same tract as Mozart’s wife Constanza, whom he despised, and not only that but she relegated him to the lesser grave. She’s on top, second hubby Nissen is under her and Leopold gets a much small marker off to one side. 🙂
https://0.tqn.com/d/classicalmusic/1/0/R/6/leopold-mozart-grave.jpg
I’ll put it on my bucket list! Thanks, John.