Entries Tagged as 'Talk Back'

Successfully Slow

Ex-Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan wrote eight-five percent of his new book, The Age of Turbulence: Adventures in a New World, in the bath. It just goes to show that those who pooh-pooh our slow ways have got it wrong.

In 1971, Mr. Greenspan’s orthopedist advised him to take hot baths for a couple of months to heal a back injury. Clearly, Mr. Greenspan can afford the best in medical advice. I’m certain this sort of advice doesn’t come cheap.

The experience of being in the bathtub had such a beneficial effect on the ex-chairman that he continued the practice. In a BBC interview this week, he said he can write, read and think more effectively in the bathtub. He said it’s where he does his conceptual work best. Why is this not common practice? Perhaps the super successful keep it a slow secret.

I’m not sure if Mr. Greenspan has read our Slow Manifesto, but I suspect he discovered slow wisdom a long time ago. There is no proof that rushing about will turn your mind to mush. But at least some people admit to the healing power of the hot bath and slowing down.

I wrote this in the bathtub.

The Search for Absolute Slow

[This is a guest post from Lynnette Rogers (a.k.a. the missus)]

I love the contrarian spirit of the slow movement. It runs so against the predominant grain of our culture. I think truly committed slow practitioners quickly see the benefits of slowing down – less stress, more enjoyment of life, better gas mileage. But I suggest that slow food, long baths, arriving early – these are aperitifs. True contrarians don’t stop there. They understand this is only the beginning, the peel, as it were, of the luscious fruit of absolute slow.

There is a hidden world of slow available only to the deeply committed. (By that I don’t mean institutionalized.) If you’re willing to risk more ridicule from your speedy friends and family, I suggest trying meditation. A warning: this should only be attempted by advanced practitioners. The most excellent benefits don’t begin to show up until after at least ten years of slow practice, if you’re lucky.

If you’ve spend any time watching the workings of your own mind, you’ve noticed the wild and fragmentary nature of thought. Add to this the shifting clouds of emotion you experience. Pile on the non-stop change in all your physical processes. In the face of this frenzied activity, it’s hard to make a case for a solid “you” in there. This, I suggest (and I’m not the first to do so), may be a primary cause of human suffering and discontent. It’s either this, or too much coffee.

Here’s where slow skills have much to offer. By sitting quietly, kicking into slow drive and just observing, we can discover some very cool stuff. There’s been much discussion over the years about what this might be, but with permission of the IINDM, I call it Absolute Slow. It’s possible to actually get relief for a little while from the tyranny of being oneself.

I’d be interested to know if anyone else has experienced your own version of Absolute Slow …

Patience

We slow people try to develop patience. Patience and slow go together like, well, things that go together well. Patience is a virtue, but it’s also a gift.

Thanks to sugar mouse in the rain for this on his blog.

“Herbert A. Simon coined a psychological law of his own, the 10-year rule, which states that it takes approximately a decade of heavy labour to master any field.”

I’m not sure that heavy labor is necessary, but perhaps persistence is. To be patient is to be kind, and to be patient with yourself is to be kind to yourself. Can we be kind to others if we aren’t to ourselves? I don’t thinks so. Patience is the slow way. Of course, like pretty much everything, it’s easier said than done. Let’s revisit this one.

Any thoughts about patience?

Neckwear Think Tank

While searching around on Mad Gringo’s blog, I found a comment on the fact that only 6% of men (presumably in the US) wear neckties. Which got me to thinking about what the IINDM would think about such a statistic…

The neckwear issue is of vital importance to all of us here at the International Institute of Not Doing Much (IINDM). Our natural inclination is to resist change. As you probably know, our organization promotes the slow lifestyle. Frankly, our membership has not kept up. Some of our members still sport the starched and studded detachable collar. Most now wear the attached soft collar, which to us is the height of modernity. We have noticed of late that fewer ties have been seen. While we are all for a more relaxed world, we do feel we need to keep up certain standards. Much debate has ensued.

On the one hand, we agree that any unnecessary expenditure of energy in putting on a tie causes needless suffering. If life can be made easier, then we are all for it. But detractors say the good name or our organization and its long pedigree should be upheld and the wearing of ties is a tradition that should remain.

We eventually agreed that ties were not necessary as putting them on would be counter to our worldview of minimal effort and following the path of least resistance. But we don’t think this trend should go too far. Where will it end? Are trousers (pants) to be discarded next?

Slow thanks to Mad Gringo

My bamboo shirt arrived today. It’s not a shirt made out of bamboo. That would be uncomfortable. No, this is a patterned bamboo Hawaiian shirt. It’s from Mad Gringo, a commentator on this site and a man with a deep commitment to slow.

As soon as I put it on I could feel its relaxing effect. In fact, I had to lie down on the sofa with a cup of tea to really appreciate how slow it made me feel. You just can’t go rushing about in a shirt like this.

Although, come to think of it, I had better not wear it to Trader Joe’s where all the staff are clad in Hawaiian shirts. I just might get asked on which isle the Latvian organic ice cream is, or the whereabouts of the two-dollar 1921 Chateauneuf du Pape.

So there really are clothes to help you go slow. Who would have thought it? I can’t write any more with this shirt on. I need a nap.

Slow body

I like peace and quiet to practice my early-morning Shibashi qigong routine.

I was reading The Lost Art of Healing, Practicing Compassion in Medicine, by Bernard Lown, and came across the three doctors: doctor quiet, doctor diet, and doctor laughter.

At one time, these three doctors may have been the only resource. As medical technology became so successful, they are now largely ignored. Hence, the ‘Lost Art’ in Lown’s title. Time is said to be the great healer and the body knows what to do if you just give it time and treat it right.

Your doctor is more likely to prescribed pills than a list of hilarious novels or plays. It’s unlikely to have your doctor recommend complete rest in some mountain spa, or to travel to a more accommodating climate for a number of years. Were these prescriptions only available in fiction? Possibly.

To my mind, it’s a great pity so much emphasis is on productivity. It seems such a Calvinistic perspective. The idea of a healthy person goes beyond the ability to produce something. Taking medicine may be a case of life and death. Clearly many lives are made better through drugs. But it surprises me that there is an expectation for the middle-aged to be using drugs. I don’t have anything against drugs. In fact, I am all for them in the right context and used appropriately.

Prevention is always the best cure. For me, a certain amount of quiet is necessary. It just feels healing. Sadly, quiet is in short supply.

Not long after I came to live in California. I rented a car and took off for an exploratory drive. I drove from San Francisco to Death Valley and up spectacular highway 395 where the mountains drop precipitously to the desert floor, over the Tioga Pass through Yosemite and back home.

When I got out of the car in Death Valley it was quiet. It was so quiet that I thought I heard noises when I walked. Was someone following me? I stopped and the noise stopped. I walked and the noise started. This was getting eerie. Eventually I realized this noise was my shirt sleeve scraping against my shirt. I had never experienced that sort of quiet. I have heard that there were people in the Sudan, elderly people, who had no hearing loss at all.

But quiet is a thing to be either terrified by or to be deeply satisfying. When it’s quiet, you hear the blood pumping in your veins, you hear your heart. It seems that you are making the very devil of a racket by breathing. Yet after a while you start to notice all sorts of things. Stillness is elusive and maybe an impossibility.

Where I live the early morning is the quiet time. I appreciate it. I step outside the door and slowly do my gigong (Chi-Gung) exercises. It’s my preferred slow way to start the day.

Slow words from the wise in Latin

Thank you to Eileen from the UK who sent this to me this morning. It’s with great appreciation I post it here with permission:

Seriously speaking, I agree with and practise all that is in your manifesto, so to speak.

I have two mottos in life which I follow slowly and carefully. One is -maximum efficiency with minimal effort.

The other is just as important, if not more so and not ungermane. In Latin: suaviter in modo, fortiter in re, gentle in the method, resolute in the action.

To express myself even more seriously, I feel very strongly about all your philosophy, having just lost a darling brother who lived a driven life and his body wore out too soon. Too many of my friends live this similar life and have constant accidents and illnesses.

I am 83 and have always followed all your precepts. Keep up this good work. I am sending news of you to all my family and friends. Eileen.

Beyond Slow

[Thank you to Dan, who writes the Art of Tea for this guest post]

I have had the honour bestowed upon me of writing a “guest post” for the Slow Down Now blog. In respect of such, I have…

…thought about writing about the Belbroughton Scarecrow Weekend.

…thought about writing about how someone once told me that the reason angels can fly is because they take life lightly.

…thought about writing about the simple delights of making jam.

…thought… isn’t it good to sometimes not think?

…to find oneself on a path between fields of crops and to stop and lean on a gate and realise what a beautiful, warm, sunny, crisp autumnal day it is…

…to watch a horse grazing idly on a nearby hillside…

…to observe the gentle circling of owls and ravens against the backdrop of clear blue sky and wispy cotton wool clouds…

…to smile at the butterflies frolicking in the undergrowth…

…to pick blackberries…

…to say hello to the squirrels and voles and robbins who cross one’s path…

…to experience…

…to just be…

…to switch off one’s mind, even one’s imagination, and to be totally absorbed in the present moment…

As a writer, I have a tendency to overthink, to philosophize on every tiny nuance of existence, to search for the meaning in everything I experience, to place all of life into a contextual narrative. But sometimes…

…isn’t it best just to forget?

…to live outside one’s thoughts?

…to slow down…

…to the point where…

…one just…

…stops?

Slow is sexy

According to an article on Reuters, women find well-mannered men more attractive. There is a new guide to chivalry for men from Debrett’s, the British arbiter of taste.

Speed leads to impatience and rudeness. I want a more civilized world, a world in which manners, consideration for others, and politeness count.

I admit that this SLOW DOWN NOW thing is an ideal. I found myself in the morally reprehensible state of multi-tasking the other day. Sometimes life gets the better of you. But at least I know to be slow.

A slow lifestyle is more polite. Do you rush to go through a door first, or slow down, and take time to stand aside and let someone else go through? Do you let other cars in front of you when driving? When I do this, I often get a friendly wave.

What may be sexy about slow is that it makes time to be considerate of others.

Trying to do too much is the culprit. If I’m thinking of things I must do, I’m not even present. Impatience adds to the sum of minor frustrations that builds up into full-blown grumpiness. The good news is slowing down helps nip grumpiness in the bud.

Look around. You can see the furrowed brow everywhere.

If we are going to treat each other better, we need to slow down. After all, the slow movement is about being more considerate and civilized. Slow down and be more attractive. It seems like a sound idea, but it’s easier said than done.

Don’t you think so?

Sleep more, get smarter

Today, Reuters published an article, “Lack of sleep may be deadly, research shows”.

Clearly lack of sleep leads to grumpiness. You must have had a bad night or two in your time? The French call a night where you can’t get to sleep a white night.

Getting enough sleep is important if you are going to adopt the slow lifestyle. A UK member of the International Institute of Not Doing Much (IINDM) who writes The Art of Tea has been struggling with how to arrange his life so he can stay longer in bed.

William Demnet, in his book, The Promise of Sleep, cited a study where Harvard graduates did better by sleeping more and studying less.

This makes a lot of sense to me. The mind needs time to process, to incubate input. But the fast-paced, rushed lifestyle thinks of sleep as an impediment. I blame the likes of Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Edison for this sort of ‘always on’ mentality.

I’ve been reading, How to be Idle, by Tom Hogkinson. He makes a compelling argument for staying in bed longer in the morning. In fact, I’ve been trying it out and I recommend it, too.

If you’re the sort of person that goes in for creativity, then allowing yourself to be in that early-morning hypnagogic state or even lucid dreaming will only help you listen to your muse.

Of course, if you’re cosmetically challenged, then remember what Sophia Loren said about sleep being a natural beauty treatment. Sleep more, get smarter.