The French have the right idea about slowing down.
Free bicycles every 900 feet or so in
Initially the program was conducted in Lyon in 2005, but now the “Vélib” program is taking off in
I’d like
What I like about the French is just how French they are. Did you know that French is the official language spoken in heaven?
I have completely forgotten that they invaded
Thank you to Roy, who left a comment yesterday on the previous post. Slow is not lazy. Although one can have a lot of fun with the idea that “slow,” is a life for the dissolute and decadent, in reality slowing down is necessary.
Rushing to action is the bane of the business world. Seth Godin, marketing guru, has this funny post about the problem of not taking the time to think though what needs to be done. Speed is often a substitute for thinking. There is a lot of value to slow in the impetuous and unthinking business world.
America is an action-oriented culture. There is a lot of energy and dynamism here, but we do tend to overdo it sometimes. Action is visible, whereas thinking or considering is invisible.
How can you be considerate and calm on a diet of sugar and caffeine? That’s the sort of diet I see people living on in the workplace. It’s no wonder that many in business are so impulsive and resist calm consideration.
Slow can be hard work, but accepting a slow process has a better chance of success. I write for small businesses. It takes time to produce a polished piece of writing that does the job it is supposed to do. And that writing is based on some slow thinking and the willingness to think before acting.
It’s the carpenter’s motto to measure twice, cut once. Slow is an investment. It’s not lazy.
Slowing down somehow seems wrong. Well, doesn’t it? Doing less seems even more subversive. Folk wisdom tells us that haste makes waste. So what do we do? We try to cram every moment with activity, because we see time as a commodity to be used up. I am guilty of cramming.
What is time? Saint Augustine said that he knew what time was, so long as no one asked him. What a wag!
I’ve been asked to write a piece for another blog on, “How to Slow Down.” Now this piece is supposed to be practical: never my strong suit. If you would like to chime in with your suggestions, please do.
If you’re like me, you try to do just one more task before leaving for an appointment. I call this time greed. So my first tip, is going to be leave early.
Praxis
It’s one thing for me to spout this piece of advice, but quite another to put it into action. Politeness is a casualty of speed. I think consideration and politeness are worthy virtues. It’s hard to be patient and considerate of others when you are worried about what other people are going to think of your showing up late.
Not everyone worries about showing up late. I used to work for a large healthcare company and managed, by some fluke, to get a promotion. The fellow who took my job started out doing a fair days work. But after a while he came in later and later, and left earlier and earlier. His excuses became harder to believe. In the end, he was calling to say that he couldn’t come in that day because he couldn’t find his keys, or his shoelaces were tied together. Well something like that.
The Black Swan
But most of us do worry about being late. When we rush, all sorts of bad things happen. We have no “wiggle room,” as a friend of mine is wont to say. We need to think about the Black Swan. The Black Swan is the title of a new book by Nassim Nicholas Taleb (The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable). Black swans are unlikely events that you just never thought about. OK, an earthquake is a good reason for showing up late. But there are a myriad of smaller contingencies.
A chance to slow down
Leaving early is likely to allow us to slow down. We could even commit a few acts of random kindness. How about not trying to run pedestrians down in the crosswalk? How about stopping and letting other motorists go first. How about just considering that the red light means stop? How about enjoying the ride?
Here is a true story of my first outside sales call. It’s a story of ineptitude posted to my new business blog. Can humor and business coexist?
Vacuity, an academic journal dedicated to helping businesspeople conduct content-free meetings, noted a rise in workplace napping.
Dr. Dennis Dormer, Director of the Department of Napology at MSU* today released results of a long-term study of hundreds of businesses world wide. “More people are napping at work,” said Dormer. The study showed companies without an employee napping plan (ENP) are more at risk of their workforce falling asleep an inopportune moments.
Dr. Dormer conducted eighty-one meetings in his laboratory that simulated a typical workplace conference room. All participants had not previously napped that day. Sixty-one percent of the participants fell asleep in the meetings. But that number rose to seventy-three percent in the presence of PowerPoint. If a presenter reads from the slides, that number rises dramatically. On twelve occasions the presenter herself fell asleep in mid-sentence.
Congress is considering regulating napping for employers with more than one hundred employees. SNORE (Site Napping Organization Research Enterprises), an unintentionally non-profit organization, recommends all businesses provide a quiet space for office workers to sleep for twenty-minute periods during the day.
WHIPS (Workplace Happiness Imagination Prevention and Suppression) viewed the study with some alarm. Cassandra Cudgel, WHIPS’ taskmaster, drew attention to the high rates of rates of heterosexuality, and bipedalism among the study’s participants. “Is this normal?” she said. “We are all for productivity. SNORE’s plan is a good one, but we do not advocate any change that might increase worker happiness.”
But Prunella M. Spite, spokeswoman for NICE (National Institute of Courtesy and Etiquette) said the study is a breakthrough and that plans to boost appropriate napping would increase consideration and courtesy at work. However Ms. Spite, a statistician by training, was concerned that half the respondents fell below the median. “This is a worrying state of affairs. We want everyone to nap and feel better,” she said.
Initial reaction from business groups to SNORE’s proposal was lethargic. But those that have looked carefully at the study—and remained awake—are of a different opinion. The study is a big boost for business. It shows with just a twenty-minute nap employee brain power, productivity, IQ, EQ, and many more acronyms, increases exponentially.
“Bottom lines expand and that’s what we’re all about,” said Graham Grab, spokesperson for Greater Resource Expansion and Enterprise Development (GREED).
Dr. Émile Lenteur, Chair of the IINDM (International Institute for Not Doing Much), famous for his discovery of relaxons, was unavailable for comment. He was having his afternoon nap.
*Make Something Up
To write this blog
Where are my ideas?
If not between the ears
Of such thoughts
I’ve many sorts
Write them down!
Or they won’t be found
This much I fear
They’ll disappear
Myself I must flog
And work like a dog
As it’s such a caper
To put them on paper
But to let thoughts flow
I must go slow
This short film is a project by students at the Central St. Martins school in London.
If you’d like to read more there is a link on the blogroll to villainous.biz. Tea drinking really is a performance, whether it is the quick gulp, or the a leisurely and absent-minded stirring.
Our performance not only attracted many passers-by but also generated in us mixed feelings – though we felt that our actions were forcibly too slow, we felt as if we were practicing yoga: our breathing calmed down, our heart rate appeared to beat slower. Those who stopped to watch us were informed of our project and ask to contribute comments which we audio recorded. It is interesting to note that most people were pleased to watch us and almost observed us with envy, and when asked about what they thought with regards to ‘slow’ living, most responded that it was an unobtainable dream, that though they too wanted to slow down they felt that it was not possible. Few people said that they have recently made changes to their lifestyles, so as to include more quiet time or thinking time, by themselves or with their companions, but all stated that they were not yet satisfied with their quality of life. Most of those who responded positively to our questions were nevertheless in their mid-40s and they tended to stress the fact that their decision to change their lifestyles derived from years of fast-paced living.
If I understand correctly, Jeffrey (of villainous.biz) is 28, so kudos to him for doing a project about slow. In an essay on education, Bertrand Russell, said, “To endure uncertainty is difficult, but so are most of the other virtues.” I think slow is a virtue; and to come by it is not easy. Slow isn’t the same as laziness, or collapse. It’s a way of being in the world. It’s the ground of creativity. Jeffery makes a good observation about a connection between midlife and an appreciation for slow. Maybe you have to suffer from speed to appreciate slow?
When you are four years old it’s hard not to wriggle and squirm. It’s hard not to have your wishes instantly gratified. Learning to wait is accompanied by wailing, gnashing of teeth and the beating of one’s breast.
But in time a good many of us can curb our impulses. Like most of us, somewhere or other I learned to wait my turn. Well, most of the time.
I’d been to a Japanese restaurant in
I touched one on the arm, and motioned I wanted to get up. It was at that moment the seatbelt sign came on, and we were deafened with an announcement telling us to remain seated. The plane bounced. It dipped. It rolled. I felt I was being shaken and not stirred.
By this time, my bladder was not happy. I looked out of the window and saw we were near our destination. Time stood still. Were we going to be up there forever?
When at last we landed, I pushed past other passengers in the aisle and made it to the bathroom. A few people muttered unpleasantly but I felt I was on fire. I made it, but the lesson for me is not to mix green tea, bumpy flights, and loquacious women.
However, I am still honing my waiting skills. I am getting better. Are you?
When I was a teenager living in
Hitchhiking isn’t so popular these days. I think there are a lot of reasons. But I spent a long time standing by the side of the road in the middle of the night under some street lamp.
Although once I had my first car, my patience subsided. I was guilty of tooting my horn at drivers who sat at green lights. I was guilty of overtaking other vehicles when I thought they were going too slow. But even when driving my first car (Morris Minor 1000), I did notice how all the other cars would pass me by. I liked the slow lane.
I don’t know about you, but I have found this a rather difficult position in which to get things done. There is a case to be made for getting things done. It seems that getting things done is quite popular.
If you’re afflicted with list-making, then how about arranging items by doing what you enjoy most? If you simply can’t, let’s say you are required to sit though a corporate PowerPoint presentation (the worst thing a human can tolerate and still live), then think about how you can enjoy what you have to do.
Many years ago, I was an employee of a large company. I was often a PowerPoint victim. Some people love to torture you by reading from the screen. I kept a notebook in order jot down all my witty (and I’m rather ashamed to admit sometimes unkind) remarks. My private notebook made things almost tolerable for me.
I hit upon the notebook idea when I was told that I would do well to keep my remarks to myself. I tried that, but then I was told not to roll my eyes. I wasn’t aware that I was doing it. You see, I had much to learn about being in corporate meetings. The idea apparently was that if you were being told the obvious, even in longwinded detail, you should enthusiastically greet the information as a revelation.
These days I score much higher in the tact department. In all fairness those presenters were doing the best they could.
I recommend the notebook because we simply can’t always voice our true opinions. An added benefit is that you look like you are really interested by taking so many notes. You don’t have to share those secret comments with anyone except your friendly notebook; therefore you can still be necessarily amicable. I do advise not bursting out laughing though at an inappropriate moment. This is always a danger. But the notebook is a wonderful stress reliever. There! You didn’t think you would actually get something useful out of this blog did you?
It’s a paradox: maximum effort with a goal of minimum effort. Ease up, slow down, and embrace counter-urgency.
How do you feel about putting gas in your car? Have you given it much thought? Going to the gas station seems a necessary evil.
You pull into the gas station as attendants rush out, clean your windshield, pump up your tires, polish your hood and fill your car with the gasoline of your choice. They call you sir, (or madam, as the case may be). You sit in your car, pasha-like, while neatly-dressed attendants minister to your vehicle.
In return, you dispense gratitude in the form of a tip. With a friendly wave you pull onto an empty freeway. And away you go. Is that how it is for you? When the world was just that much slower, you could expect that kind of service. I know, I worked in a gas station, only we called it a petrol station.
I was at the gas station filling up my car yesterday. No longer are friendly employees there to floss your car and ask after your wellbeing. No longer are there employees. The staff is reduced to just one sullen human in a bullet-proof box.
It was a clear case of multitasking. She was on the phone while an irate customer was quizzing her on her knowledge of the ingredients of oil for her car. There was a lot of head shaking and gesturing going on. This was taking some time.
A line was beginning to form—possibly, a line of murderers.
Being a gas-station attendant is a high-risk job. It is close to top of the list of occupations that one is likely to be murdered in. But murder is not the only hazard.
I once pulled into a gas station in rural Tennessee, and a rather bosomy girl was “checking” the pumps. She had a cigarette in hand and you could see the gasoline vapors rising from gas tanks in the humid heat. Perhaps in Tennessee they have employee nonchalant training? But in my part of the world, the sullen customer service is the latest fad.
The exclusive gas station has not yet been invented—but of course it will. A yet to be realized category of fame is gas-station-attendant-to-the-stars, or a personal-gas-pumper (PGP). No status-conscious individual will be without their PGP. As gas prices increase, there will be loan officers at each station to go over your last three years of tax returns to see if you qualify for a loan to fill up.
Testy, is the word I use to describe the general ambiance of my local gas station. Everyone is in a hurry. Everyone wants gas in their car, but doesn’t really want to go to the bother of putting it in. Perhaps a sign over the station would help: Abandon hope all ye who enter here, or Patience shall set you free.
Of course, patience does set you free. The woman who was attempting to communicate with the inhabitant of the bullet-proof box was not doing well. Steam was coming from her ears.
“Maybe if you got off the phone, this would go faster,” she yelled above the din of a group of newly-arrived motorcyclists. They were having a competition to see whose motorbike could make the loudest noise.
More murderers were joining the line behind her. They were starting to finger their weapons.
Miss bullet-proof was shaking her head and saying that it was impossible for her to get off the phone.
By this time, the gas station was ever more popular. Its magnet-like charm was attracting more cars and the lines were growing. I’m sure that even people who didn’t really need a fill-up were joining. You know how it is. When something is popular, more people are attracted. It’s like the person standing in the street looking up at a tall building. Soon a small group has gathered to see what-in-the-world she is looking at.
A rather portly high-school girl lumbered over to the line of murders and tried her canned sales pitch on them. None seem interested in supporting her school polo club, or yachting excursion to Aruba, or whatever it was she was trying to get support for. The prize of a Twinkie as a thank you gift was not enough of an incentive. Giving sugar to a line of impatient murderers is never a good thing. Apparently, her sales training hadn’t covered this point.
Eventually, I made it to the pump, but the nozzle was tantalizingly out of reach. I discovered this only after putting my credit card in the machine. Security is tight. I punched in my card number, my zip code, my social security number, the social security number of all of my relatives and friends, agreed to the nine-page conditions and terms of service, waived my rights to revenge, keyed in my shirt size, sexual preference, and my favorite brand of toilet paper. When I realized the hose wouldn’t reach, I managed to cancel the transaction and find another pump.
But the next pump I found was grumpy. It was in no mood to accept my card. Do they cleverly build sullenness into the mechanics? I joined the line of murders to pay by cash.
Have you noticed how things change? Eventually, the steamed-up woman decided on the right colored plastic bottle of oil for her car. She decided not to pay by check as she had first intended, but moved on to a lengthy credit-card transaction. The line of murders had dissipated. I paid my $20 and was able to buy enough gasoline to get me back up the hill and home. No, I don’t have a big car.
Who needs entertainment when you can hang out at your gas station and see life? It’s the slow way.
The bullet-proof inmate is probably still on the phone. It has to be awfully lonely in there.