On slowing down

The more I mature, the more I see that the purpose of life is not to get everything you want — nor is it to check all the checkboxes as fast as possible — it’s simply to live. No matter how complicated, easy, sad, joyful, incredible, horrible, exciting, boring, splendid, painful life will be (and the older you get, the more, it seems, you discover the variety of life’s true colours) — to keep on living with dignity is already an achievement worth celebrating. The simple act of noticing life is an essential part of that.

Of course, I can’t talk for everyone. I only have my experience to fall back on. But sometimes, I get so caught up in work, my goals, and my ambition that I miss out on life. My young and beautiful wife sits right beside me inside our apartment, but I don’t notice her and don’t notice that the sun is shining outside because I am too caught up in my head and the “things I want to do”, “books I want to read”, and “articles I could write”. In the grand scheme of life, these things seem minuscule, smaller than a neutron in comparison to the beautiful ordinary. Other times, I feel so overwhelmed by stupidly high expectations of myself that it feels as if all life is sucked out of me, like oxygen in space. In times like these, I need to remind myself that I am not a robot, I am only human, and this means, first and foremost, that I have limitations. (Not being at my best at all times, for one.)

It seems that learning the habit of slowing down, putting down whatever we were doing, taking five (or a day) before returning to the task at hand is key to noticing life — which means, it’s key to living with satisfaction in general. When all is said and done, the only thing that’ll be left — in our memories — is the beautiful, unique, unrepeatable minutiae (her smile, his walk, the birds singing, that first sip of coffee in the morning, that sun shining outside) that comprised the majority of our ordinary, yet fascinating lives.