On a recent trip to Brooklyn, I gave myself twenty to twenty-five minutes to walk three or four blocks to dinner with friends.
Within the first block, I noticed I was hurrying.
There was no scheduling problem to solve. I had already made room for the walk. And yet I was moving as though something needed to happen quickly.
I recognized the feeling from my years living in the Bay Area: I could relax once I got where I was going. Until then, I needed to keep moving.
That evening, the destination was a restaurant. In other parts of my life, it had been a goal, an achievement, or some idea of where I thought I should be by now.
When relaxing depends on finishing
There are days when we rush because we have too much to do. The demands are real, and slowing down may require help, fewer commitments, or a change we don’t have access to yet.
But what about the moments when there actually is enough time?
You finish work, sit down with your partner, and remember one more email. You have a free afternoon and immediately start figuring out how to use it well. You reach a goal you’ve been working toward and barely acknowledge it before thinking about what comes next.
In those moments, I think it’s worth listening to the condition we’ve placed on being able to rest.
I can enjoy this once everything is handled.
What does “everything” include? And when has it ever stayed handled for very long?
There will usually be another task. If being present depends on reaching the end of all of them, we’ve given ourselves very few opportunities to experience the day we’re in.
Notice what rushing feels like
One thing I appreciate about paying attention to my body is that it gives me something concrete to notice.
In Brooklyn, I could have stayed in my thoughts about dinner and never questioned my pace. Feeling the activation in my body gave me a reason to pause.
You might notice your own rushing through the way you walk, how tightly you’re holding your shoulders, or how quickly you move from one task to another. Maybe you’re halfway through a conversation and realize you’re already preparing for what happens afterward.
You don’t have to immediately change any of it.
First, get curious: What am I hurrying to finish? What do I imagine will become available once I’m done?
Sometimes the answer will be practical. You need to leave for work. Someone is waiting for you. There’s a deadline.
Other times, you might discover that you’re waiting for permission to feel at ease, even though this particular moment doesn’t require you to hurry.
What gets postponed along with rest?
When I slow down enough, I can hear more clearly what I want.
That matters because it’s possible to spend a whole day meeting expectations without asking whether any part of it felt meaningful. You can be productive, dependable, and available to everyone, while having very little contact with your own experience.
For men who recognize themselves in that, I’d be curious about what gets deferred.
Maybe you keep meaning to call a friend, but want to get through a busy stretch first. Maybe your partner gets whatever attention is left at the end of the evening. Maybe there’s something you enjoy doing that now feels difficult to justify because it doesn’t accomplish anything.
These can seem like small things to put off. Over time, though, they are part of what makes a life feel like ours.
Enough is a question worth asking
I want to be careful here. Having food, a warm place to sleep, and love and connection in my life gives me room to ask these questions. I know that isn’t everyone’s situation.
From where I am, though, I have to be willing to consider what I’m continuing to chase.
I can want to grow my work, earn more money, and have new experiences. I can also ask what I expect those things to give me.
If I’m hoping that the next achievement will finally let me enjoy my life, I want to examine that expectation. Will I recognize that I’ve arrived? Will I let myself stay there for a while?
There’s something uncomfortable about realizing that a life I once wanted may already be here, and I’m moving too quickly to have much contact with it.
Try staying with one ordinary moment
You don’t need to turn slowing down into another project.
Choose a moment that already belongs to your day. A walk. Lunch. The first few minutes with someone you love after work.
If the circumstances allow, give it a little more of your attention. Notice your pace. See whether there’s any effort in your shoulders or belly that you’d like to ease. Let yourself hear the person speaking before deciding what to say next.
You might enjoy it. You might notice impatience, discomfort, or the urge to get on with something else. That’s something to be curious about, too.
On that walk to dinner, I didn’t need to give up the destination. I wanted to see my friends. I could look forward to arriving and still let myself experience the few blocks between us.
Where in your life is there room for that?
Something you keep moving through that you’d actually like to be here for.
