"Dare to slow down", Tias Little

I was asked recently in an interview to pick one piece of advice I would give to improve someone's well-being. I could have selected from a long list, but I chose the deliberate act of slowing down.

Slowing down seems a luxury in today's world, with so much to do. But this simple shift, even for a short moment in the day, can be a significant act of self-care.

When things speed up and I have too much going on, I can feel tension tangibly rising in my body. Incessant doing has contributed to my own burnout and stress over the years. Speed typically preceded making mistakes and bad choices and being unkindly reactive to myself and others.

Does busy mean better?

'Acceleration is sold to us in the spirit of celebration', says Johann Hari, author of Stolen Focus. I certainly related to this for most of my life. I wasn't always keen to slow down and continue to find it hard. I've been conditioned over the years to equate fast with efficiency, productivity, and achievement. Being busy is deeply engrained in me as a validation of my worth. So not being busy feels, well, seriously unnatural.

Even now, when I enjoy a day off, I feel like I ought to be doing something, bashing out the do-to list, making myself extremely useful all the time. It feels more comfortable to fill time constantly and inherently controversial to do less. Guilt uncomfortably knaws away in the background, 'I should do this, I should do that'.

Fast train

Many of us are moving at such speed that we don't even realise how fast we are going. I sometimes wonder, when in that state - am I actually in control of what I'm doing, saying, watching, scrolling, eating? Or is my nervous system hitching a ride on a fast-moving train, accelerating so fast I can't enjoy the journey or choose which destination to stop at? I sometimes catch myself - am I in control, or is the speed controlling me?

Don't get me wrong; there is a time for fast! But balance in all things generally seems to be a good place to live. And for many of us, there doesn't seem to be enough slow (or any slow at all) in the mix, including, sometimes, in our yoga practice.

Experiments in slow

I woke up one day and realised I was sitting on that fast train. Only so far can a train career ahead until it runs out of fuel or crashes and burns. I had to learn from scratch the value (and necessity) of slowing down and not equating slow with lazy. To approach slowness with curiosity, not judgement.

So how about you? Think about the last time you slowed down your meal and savoured each bite, read a book at pure leisure or watched a low sunset for the longest time until it disappeared, watching colours shift and merge. How did that feel?

How does it feel when we

slow... (take a full deep breath here)

right... (take another deep breath here)

down...? (and another juicy one, here)

What is your relationship with slow? Do you welcome or shun it? How would it be to decelerate and get to know and listen to your body, your breath, and yourself again in unhurried spaciousness? Without guilt, without agenda. Is that even possible?

Slowing down can be uncomfortable and confronting even (try to stop a speeding train suddenly and see what happens); perhaps we resist doing it - I know I still do. Sometimes we need permission to slow down. This is the gift a restorative yoga practice gives me.

For a deep dive into your slow investigation,
Join me for restorative this Autumn, starting next week...

Ps. for more on Restorative Yoga, read this Blog by Anna Ashby: https://triyoga.co.uk/blog/yoga/five-reasons-to-practise-restorative-yoga/