The need for speed

Good thing that person’s not actually injured. They’re in for a bumpy and leisurely ride. (Library of Congress photo)

This week, for the first time since the start of the year, things slowed down a little.

When I say that things slowed down, I mean that there is less to do. I am working eight- or nine-hour days instead of thirteen-hour ones.

And that means that I can slow down, too. I don't have to be frantic. I don't have to watch the clock carefully to make sure I can fit all my tasks and meetings in. There is enough time for everything.

Usually, when I come off of a period of intense activity, it takes awhile for that sense of urgency to leave me. I still carry the feeling of the deadline being an hour away, even though it's now a week away. It's like I keep looking over my shoulder to see what's chasing me.

I have to consciously tell myself that nothing is coming. I'm okay. I don't have to push. I can breathe, reflect, regroup. If I'm feeling a little tired or sluggish, that's fine — there is space for that.

Proceeding at this in-between speed is a newer skill for me. In the past, a slower, quieter approach been a signal that something is wrong: grief, illness, stress, or all of the above (for instance, in the case of a global pandemic). I have felt the need for speed in order to create equilibrium and function at the level that I am accustomed to.

Now, I can see the slower pace as part of the natural ebb and flow — the tide receding, as it does half the time. There's nothing wrong, and I don't need to fix it. I can just follow it.

When my nephew emptied a large box, he immediately wanted to put it in the trash. His dad pointed out that they could throw it away later.

The little boy reflected on this for a moment. "Not right now," he said. Obsessed with garbage trucks and other utility vehicles, he clarified his reasoning: "Garbage truck go not right now."

At age two, my nephew showed clearly the understanding that discarding the box was not an emergency (no need to call in a wee-you guy, that is). The trash won't get taken away until that exciting day when the garbage truck comes.

I've had to come to a similar understanding. I don't need to caffeinate and psych myself up for a task so that I can get it done in the next twenty minutes. I can take an hour sometime over the next day, and that will be enough.

Granted, I like to get a little bit ahead so that I can have some margin for when emergencies and urgencies come up. But that's the mode that I've been living in for the past five weeks. It was all hands on deck, peak-of-the-dinner-rush. The speeded-up-music part of the video game. It is over, for now, and I have to rest and recharge a bit. Otherwise, I won't be ready for when the next intense burst of activity is called for.

So I will move a little more slowly, take a bit more time for leisure, and allow my tasks and routines to take longer than usual. I'll lay off the sugar and caffeine and get more sleep. When there's a need for speed, I'll have some reserves of energy saved up. But it's not now. Not right now.