Slow People

I'm a slow person. No, I don't mean mentally retarded, though some might argue that point. I also don't mean slow-moving, sluggish, or drowsy. By a slow person, I mean someone who takes life one thing at a time, someone for whom multi-tasking is as challenging as rappeling off the Empire State Building, and equally unlikely. A slow person leaves plenty of unstructured time between commitments, likes to hang out with the dog in the backyard, and even considers that a bonafide activity. Being a slow person doesn't mean not feeling guilty about leading a slow life, but it does mean persisting in it despite all guilty feelings.

I was introduced to the term by a friend. She used the phrase to describe herself and meant it in a modest and self-deprecating sense, by way of explaining her daily schedule, which includes power yoga and volunteer work with the blind. Like me, she doesn't over-program herself. Yoga isn't something she does before work, or after. It's her morning's activity.

As she explained her slow nature, I immediately saw in myself a kindred spirit. Putting a label on my modus operandi appealed to me, made it seem somehow more acceptable. Because mostly, I feel as if I'm out of sync with the world around me, a world of fast track, productive personalities. And thank goodness all you type-A's are out there. You're the ones who make the trains run on time (oops! bad example). But, while you're pulling out of the station, I'm probably still at home, tying on my sneakers and taking Cosmo for a walk.

I'm not suggesting here that everyone take time to smell the roses. Rather, I'm asking your understanding, even sympathy, for those of us who can't do anything but smell the roses. And please don't stop multi-tasking. Without you fast people, who would grow, ship, plant, fertilize, and water the roses for us slow people to smell?