No rushing and pushing
An airport is busy, but it better not be chaotic. (Image by Martin Winkler)
Rural Maine, like a lot of rural places, has a lot of two-lane highways.
Most of these winding roads have a double yellow line down the middle. But on some stretches, you’ll see the dotted line that tells you you’re allowed to pass the car in front of you if there is no one coming. That way, those who want to go faster can do so.
There’s a tension between maintaining the speed of the person in front of you versus bumping out and around them. When you pass, you’re taking a risk. What if you can’t make it back to your lane in time?
I believe that going the speed limit, like going to bed early, is one of the great joys of successful adulthood. I don’t have to do more. I don’t have to be in a hurry. There is enough time, and I will achieve what I need to without constantly pushing.
Yes, it’s a metaphor, but it’s also a daily reality if I choose for it to be. There’s something freeing about sitting in the car, in my self-contained little box, accepting the road conditions and giving my fellow motorists adequate space to make whatever decisions they need to. I feel the same about being able to get in bed well before I’m exhausted, with no responsibilities or nagging obligations.
It wasn’t always this way. I spent my twenties constantly running late, which was not unrelated to my habit of constantly going to bed in the wee hours. As a result, I could never sit back and relax in the car. I had to make the next light, so I had to push the speed limit. I had to pass the slower people in my way. It was a dangerous and exhausting lifestyle.
Over time, I made a lot of changes that made my world less frenetic and frantic. I sold my car and chose to walk and take public transit instead of driving. I meditated. I took up knitting. I gave away job responsibilities instead of trying to do everything, all the time. I got rid of clothing, books, papers, and other clutter. I said yes to fewer things. I spent time with children, pacing my world according to their rhythms.
With a tidier desk, bedroom, and car, plus a lighter schedule, I no longer feel a constant pressure to rush and push. It is a relief.
Probably, my twenty-five-year-old self would be bored with my current life, but she might also be intrigued by the peace that comes from accepting that a day should only have sixteen waking hours in it, and that things go better when only half of those consist of work. She could make the choice to live that way.
There is something to be said for the pressure of a deadline to keep us on our game and challenge us to accomplish more than we thought possible. However, as Cal Newport pointed out in a recent podcast, a professional is motivated not by the threat of negative consequences but by the promise of a desired result. I no longer need the deadlines to make me do things. It helps that I don’t feel overwhelmed all the time, but I’m less overwhelmed because I spend less of my life trying to max myself out and more of it seeking a state of calm. The results compound: the less agitated I am, the less agitated I am.
Not all of life needs to be spent in the slow lane. The point, for me, is not the slowness itself. it’s the peace that comes from the slowness. Once I learn how to experience the peace, I can feel it even when I’m flying along. It’s a daily practice, and I’m still learning.
If you are seeking to reduce the stress in your life, you might start with something small like going the speed limit. You might concentrate on your breath in line at the grocery store. You might type more slowly instead of trying to be quick and making a million typos. You might wash your hands the full twenty seconds like everyone says to. As you slow down, these little activities might take more time. Where will that time come from? What will you then stop doing that no longer fits? That’s where things get interesting.
Life still feels like an adventure when you stop at yellow lights and go to bed at 9:00 PM. There are so many ways to find joy and meaning in our days. For me, existence is richer when I’m not zipping through it as fast as I can. I may end up living longer, too. At the very least, I’ll enjoy the ride. No white-knuckling is necessary.
