The beautiful terror of going slower. (I highly recommend it.)

I’ve been practicing living “slower” for a lot of this year. Slower to get pretty much everywhere — to decisions, to commitments, to “arriving” at where I’ve been trying to get, asap, for such a long time. You know the place… the race.

My nervous system has been jacked for years, so less than “go-more-now-now” has been slightly confusing to my system. And actual stillness… well that’s been just… disorienting. What I thought was north turned out to be south, what I thought mattered so much just isn’t the point.

Slower can be terrifying. I highly recommend it.

My pace of work (that’s pretty-speak for workaholism), has been a speed-skate over the dark patches of my self: my fear, my wounds, and my tremulous self worth. Which is to say, I’ve been working my ass off to avoid much of my humanity. Seems to be a universal part of our condition.

I am here to testify:
When you meet your Humanity you will meet your Holiness. There is so much freedom in the flow.
You are vast. You have to slowwww down to meet that kind of wholeness.

You have to breathe to tap your true life force — to FEEL Creation carrying you. So many of us are breathless, panting hard to prove our worth. It’s not passionate, it’s punishing.

“Just slow things down and it becomes more beautiful.”
— David Lynch

Without the speed addiction, it’s you and your shit (compost) in slower than usual motion — which is not easy. And! It’s also you and your spectacular, burning Light. You and your broken, but so much more effectual, heart. It’s you and your past and your desires colliding with the power of presence. It’s you and your expanding bravery questioning every mis-truth that you’ve ever believed.

Slower is brave. Slower is flow. Slower is Faith. Slower, as I’ve come to discover, is Love.

It will not break your spirit, it will break down your addictions. Slower is not robbing you of having your deep desires being fulfilled, it’s helping you to be there — really be there — so you can see them right in front of you.

Slowly,
Danielle