The last three years of grad school felt like a blur, which gave me pause right after graduation a few weeks ago. I’m going to slow down, I told myself. And I have.
I took a break from writing.
I took a break from reading.
I took a break from thinking about most things theological.
But more importantly, I made a conscious effort to take a step back in every interaction, every situation, and every circumstance. In the last few weeks, I’ve trained my subconscious to dwell on one thing and one thing only: to slow down.
I’ve been working on a podcast series due out later this summer. It’s designed around the work I’m doing for the church, but it’s also designed around my own hunger.
I have an insatiable curiosity to dig into the stories, motivations, dreams, and desires of people I find interesting, people I admire, people I look up to, people I’m inspired by. One of those people is my friend Kaitlin Curtice.
Not to give too much away, but in my interview I asked her what’s one thing she wants our generation to know, and after abusing an uncomfortable amount of silence, she said, “To slow down.”
She’s where I got this extraordinary, ordinary idea from.
So… I’ve… slowed down.
In the last few weeks, I’m finding conversations with others much more enjoyable, less reactive, and more intentional.
My commute to and from meetings, appointments, and excursions to the local coffee shop are less tense and more enjoyable.
Work projects are getting accomplished with more efficiency and better quality because I’ve reduced what I allow myself to invest my energy into during the week.
People are no longer interruptions, but meaningful diversions into the things that matter the most.
And more importantly, for once in my life, I feel a steady sense of peace.
That’s all this blog post is about today. It’s simple, it’s short, it’s sweet. It’s about slowing down.
What do you do in order to slow down?