3 stories that helped me learn to go slow

Happy Sunday, Soothers. Here are three, let's call them little fables, that are created out of lessons I learned about the importance of rest and going slow.

The reality is that resting, taking our time, or 'doing nothing' is an inherent part of growth, but it's hard for our busy little minds and nervous little bodies to remember and embrace that. But let me tell you a few tales about the marathoner, the slingshot, and the wintering plant, and hope that these little stories will help your soul understand and know that seasons of rest are not just safe and normal, but necessary.

The marathoner: A long, long time ago (insert wavy lines here), I used to run marathons and half marathons. And when I was getting started all anybody would ever hammer on about were two things: the importance of rest days, and the importance of your long runs being run at a pace 1-2 minutes slower than the pace you hoped to run your actual race at. My busy little go-go-go body thought at first that this wisdom was 1. bunk 2. sort of lip service - ha ha, yeah, rest days... but secretly you mean I should be running hard every single day, right??? And going INTENTIONALLY slow on long runs I found nearly impossible. Shouldn't I be running the long runs as fast as possible so I could replicate the pace on race day?? But over time, as I saw people around me following these rules and performing much more strongly than me in races (not to mention that I gave myself a pesky stress fracture with overtraining), I realized, it wasn't just lip service. You rest long and run slower to go faster eventually. Rest days repair muscle damage; and as for slow runs, I found this insight on Runners World: "There are many, many physiological adaptations the body makes in order to meet the physical demands of distance running, especially for the marathon distance, and this why slowing down is recommended. These physical adaptations do not simply happen overnight. The adaptation process is stimulated when the demands of training are greater than what the body is prepared to meet. This physical overload triggers the adaptation process. Each time we go above and beyond, which is known as progressive overload, we stimulate this adaptation process. When we overload the body in gradual, incremental increases, it responds positively by becoming stronger. If we overload the body too rapidly or too heavily too soon, it doesn't have time to adapt and we risk poor performances, injury, illness, and/or mental burnout."

The lesson of the marathoner is clear: Rest and go slow on a regular basis to eventually go fast on the day when it counts.

The slingshot: I've often berated myself for being somebody who can take a long time to make decisions or create progress. I thought about leaving my 9-5 to start my own business for two years before I did it; I thought about moving closer to nature for three years before I did it; I had a crush on my now-boyfriend for three years before I ginned up the courage to act on it. "I'm so slow, I take so long," I would depressedly think, looking back on these time periods in my life. First, however, what I didn't realize is that urgency is a cultural tenet of white supremacy and I needed to divest from the mindset that fastest was best. Second, I had the insight one day that what was really happening for me in these long decision-making periods was much like I was pulling back a slingshot. When you're pulling back a slingshot it can look like things are going backwards; but the further back a slingshot goes, the further forward it will shoot. Thank you girlstart.org for the physics explanation: "Things like slingshots work by storing energy in elastic materials, such as the rubber bands in this activity. The stored energy is called potential energy. The farther the rubber bands are stretched, the more potential energy is stored. When the rubber bands are released, the potential energy that has been stored up is converted into kinetic energy, which causes motion."

The lesson of the slingshot: What looks like taking a lot of time or even going backwards might simply be converting potential energy so it can shoot forward at just the right time to create just the right impact.

The wintering plant: As you all know, last December I moved into my nature witch cottage. We have a bit of yard, which I haven't had in decades. I've become a relatively decent indoor house plant grower, but never have really tried to grow a garden or landscape a yard, so I've been reading up on it. And as I walked through this land, acquainting myself with what in December through March looked like frozen, barren forests, I knew underneath the soil much was happening. And in fact, in my gardening reading, I found a fascinating fact I'd never heard of before: sometimes the colder a winter, the better for the garden or vegetable! In fact, all of my favorite delicate spring flowers require a period of "chilling" or cold dormancy before they will begin to grow and bloom. And Polytunnel Gardening writes, "Certain fruit trees are amongst the plant types that require a period of cold weather in winter. Fruit trees like apples, plums and pears all need a period of cold in order to come into growth in the spring, bloom and then fruit. In a process called vernalisation, the reducing daylight hours induce the trees to go into their dormant phase. The trees shed their leaves, since it would require too much energy to maintain them over the winter, when photosynthesis is reduced. It is then essential that the trees have a certain number of days with a low temperature – generally no higher than 7 degrees C. Only when this cold weather period has happened will trees burst into growth and bloom once temperatures rise once more. This makes sure that trees do not accidentally grow and bloom in autumn rather than in spring."

The lesson of the wintering plant: A period of extended cold, which most of us would dread, may actually be essential to our eventual growth. And, of course, nobody puts this lesson better than Rumi: "Don’t think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter. It’s quiet, but the roots are down there riotous."

If you're currently finding yourself in a season of slow, long runs and rest days; of a season of the pullback of the slingshot; of a frozen, winter ground season, don't despair. These are the rhythms of a life, and these periods of rest or perceived dormancy are actually what enables our eventual growth. Lean into wherever you are, and know, best you can, that your time of expansion will too eventually come.