The Deep work of Moving Slowly Through a Fast World

Plus the menu for the week of May 5-9th

I recently wrapped up two days away in Vienna, Illinois (about 2.5 hours from St. Louis) on a brief solo getaway. Here’s a picture of my yurt — I had no idea what a yurt was until now, but I’m pretty sure this was a fancy one!

One of my favorite things to do is to browse the Airbnb app and find cabins, treehouses or (yurts!) not too far from home to check out. I’m often drawn to places near the Shawnee National Forest — there are endless options for state parks and hiking. This time, I found my yurt near Ferne Clyffe State Park, which ended up being perfect for easy-to-navigate, shorter hikes, with a surprising variety of landscapes. Each trail felt completely different from the last.

When I take trips like this, especially the solo ones, I often notice a theme emerges without me even meaning to set one.

For this trip, the theme was slow — perfectly modeled by a turtle I spotted on the trail, who became my unofficial mascot.

The older I get, the more curious I am about slowness. And honestly — do we even have a choice? It feels like the aging process insists on it anyway. It seems wise to start embracing the beauty it offers, even before the physical changes of aging fully set in. Going slow feels like it has the potential to add more richness to my days. It helps me feel like I’m actually experiencing my life, not just rushing through it to get to the next thing. It certainly goes against what the mind tries to do — constantly narrating a future to-do list.

To borrow a line from one of my favorite poets, Mark Nepo:

The most meaningful experiences in life unfold very slowly.

Today, I thought I’d share a few places in my life where I’m trying to notice, appreciate, and cultivate more slowness.

1. With Myself

Slowness has been especially helpful when I’m dealing with tough emotions.

One of my go-to tough feelings is social awkwardness — replaying a moment with a group or individual, questioning how I came across.