Somewhere along the way, slow became something that needed explaining.

Eating slowly is labeled inefficient. Replying slowly is taken as a lack of care. Making decisions slowly feels like disrespecting the world’s tempo.

Everyone is busy, busy finishing things, not busy passing through them.

Three minutes for a book summary. Five minutes to decide if a film is worth watching. Even travel must be checked in, tagged, reviewed to prove that we really went.

Yet I’ve noticed that the moments that truly stayed in my body were almost never properly documented.

Not because they weren’t important, but because I was too busy living them to take out my phone.

Slowness isn’t very likable. It offers no immediate reward, guarantees no outcome, and can’t be monetized on the spot.

Slowness is this: sitting there, nothing happening, yet knowing we didn’t run away. For many people, that’s an unaffordable luxury.

I used to feel anxious too, worried I was falling behind, not driven enough, not ambitious enough. Later I realized: I simply never joined the collective acceleration race.

Being slow isn’t resisting the world. It’s choosing not to be pushed. Like when we stop while walking just to look at a tree. We produce nothing in that moment, but we exist FULLY for a second.

The world won’t stop for us. But we can stop for ourselves. And that pause isn’t laziness, it’s taking ourself back.



—— XC Scribbles · 陸拾參 LXIII 🐌