Slowing down
We live in a time where we are bombarded by external stimulation. From the moment we are born, we are exposed to phones, television, and fast-moving metal objects for transport. Even just experiencing the intensity of sights, sounds, and movement outside the womb is enough to overwhelm our developing nervous systems. Add to that the immediacy of gratification brought by phones, fast food, and on-demand access to almost anything, and it’s no wonder our systems are overloaded.
Naturally, our nervous system becomes bombarded. We live outside our window of tolerance, and begin to believe that calm is something reserved for holidays or retreats—a luxury rather than a way of being.
When we live in a chronically activated state, “rest” often becomes just the crash after the high—like coming down from a sugar rush. This isn’t real rest, but a collapse from overstimulation.
In today’s society, slowing down has to become a conscious act of defiance against the pull of speed. The combination of constant stimulation and a relentless drive to “do” and “produce,” coupled with societal pressure to make an impact, leads many to become disconnected from themselves—perhaps never truly knowing what it’s like to be with themselves in stillness.
Yet we can live in tune with our individual pace. It may feel uncomfortable at first, especially in a culture that glorifies comparison, productivity, and accumulation. We’ve lost contact with our natural rhythms, as well as the natural cycles of the places we live in.
When we sit in nature, we are reminded of our inherent pace—slow, cyclical, and unique. Our brains often move faster than our bodies. Living in a brain-dominant, thought-focused society can lead to overstimulation and, eventually, burnout. We may even become addicted to the rush—the adrenaline of crashing and rebuilding—which makes it harder to truly listen to ourselves and slow down as we get something from the speeding cycle.
Even in therapy, we can speed through psychological insights, consume books that explain our experiences, and talk endlessly about our stories. But I invite you to slow down.
Connect to the subtleties of your emotional experience. Notice how your body holds the story. Does it numb, Disassociate. I often see bodies reacting in ways opposite to what the person expresses—the repressed response lives in the body.
When we slow down and connect, we create a secure base within ourselves. From this integrated place, we can move forward more authentically and live in alignment with our true pace.
