Last week I wrote a piece for the Baptist Times where I mentioned the growing clamour in me to slow down. The other day in just a small way, I saw that action of slowing reap a great reward.
I needed to walk into town before work to get some milk. I was walking at a brisk pace with my head down, focussed on the pavement ahead making sure that I wasn’t going to step in anything I’d rather not. Ahead of me were a couple in perhaps their 70s, walking hand in hand at a much slower pace. I could have said ‘excuse me’ and squeezed by, but I didn’t. I deliberately chose to slow down and walk behind them at a respectful distance.
Walking at speed meant that I needed to keep my eyes on where I was going. Walking more leisurely meant that I could also take note of what was around me. Had I squeezed by and carried on with my head down into the town centre, I’d have missed them. But by slowing down my eyes chanced on the beautiful display of snowdrops in the hedgerow. It’s been a few weeks since I’d walked this way and these were the first snowdrops I’d seen this year.
In rushing about we miss so much of what’s going on around us and little glimpses like this are reminders that not only is there calm and serenity in a slower pace of life, but there’s also beauty and wonder.
As our American friends are fond of saying; “what’s not to like?”