Keeping us longer

Because we're exactly where we need to be

Me, not in a rush, courtesy of a weekend getaway in Kenya. I’ll be there again this summer and I’d love it if you joined me. Together we’ll practice disconnecting and discovering what we can create when we slow down.

Do any of you remember when social media didn’t exist? What about cell phones? And I don’t mean smartphones; I mean the fancy RAZR flip phones. What about email? Would you believe me if I told you I dropped out of a freshman-level philosophy class because the professor wouldn’t write the assignments on the green chalkboard? He wanted to subject us to a green monotype font on a black background, only accessible via dial-up in the school library. When I close my eyes and think about it today, it reminds me of Pong. And the Oregon Trail.

When I was a child, maybe ten years old, possibly 12 or eight (I don’t know, it was so long ago, and I don’t have a photo on my phone to prove it), I used to sit on a mound of dirt in my backyard and wait for hours for the gophers to peek their heads through the tunnels they dug underneath me. I was very careful to avoid the scorpions, black widows, and rattlesnakes that lurked in my backyard. One of our dogs, a German Shorthaired Pointer, was bitten by a rattlesnake and died. My mother was devastated.

Today, 30-ish years later, I have three email addresses, downsized from the five I had a few years ago. Three Slack accounts. One Zoom. If Skype hadn’t blown it, I’d probably have that too. Fuck Teams. A Facebook account that, as far as I’m concerned, can go away as soon as everyone my age and older stops with this nonsense. A personal Instagram account and four business accounts, three of which I make someone else manage for obvious reasons. Two Toks, one that’s mine so I can see what the kids are up to, and a business one, that again, is managed by Char for Coalition, and I hope she never quits. Fuck Twitter (I refuse to call it X in protest.) One OnlyFans. (Can you imagine if I had two? I’d never get dressed.) Three websites, with another one on the way. One messaging app for Coalition. This newsletter. Two email service provider accounts for my businesses. One WhatsApp. A synced calendar with four accounts. One smartphone that sends all phone calls to voicemail that I rarely check so really, it’s a mini-computer. One virtual community, not managed by me because HELLO did you read this list….

Never could I have imagined in my gopher-chasing days that these sci-fi things would exist. It’s really out of this world, isn’t it? And to think that so many people on this planet don’t know a time without technology. They don’t remember the spaces that existed in the in between.

Perhaps that’s why we rush.

Society demands it of us. Shame on you if you receive a text or a DM and let it sit while you focus on something else, perhaps that human being sitting right in front of you. If you don’t post what you did today to IG, how will you have time to fit it in tomorrow? Did it even happen if the algorithm didn’t say so? You better get to that email because you know you heard that ping, and Gmail tells the sender if you read it or not.

I do make a conscious effort to slow down. Sometimes I’m successful, and I attribute that to:

• Silencing my phone and my computer.

• Turning off notifications from email, social, or Slack. Only texts (because I do get some really good ones).

• Turning background distractions off; if I’m writing, I’m writing, not looking at what email just came through.

• Staying off social media; I only use it now to share this newsletter.

• Taking photos and videos because I want to remember the experience, not because I’m creating the perfect Reel or Tok. (Also, no judgment if you do this—I have found that it does not bring me joy, but if it’s your cup of tea, keep it pouring.)

• Not taking any photos or videos of what I do and experimenting with my memory, which is a fun game.

• Blocking off my calendar—no morning meetings in the winter, no meetings on Fridays, scheduling the fun stuff, and zero apologies or explanations. I’m simply not available.

• Spending time outside. As much as I can.

• Making lists on paper with a nice pen.

• Making homemade pasta.

• Meditating.

• Journaling.

• Writing.

• Astrologizing (yeah, I’m going with that, and I see you).

• Bathing, like in a hot bathtub with salts and candles and bubbly drinks.

• Reading.

• Spending copious amounts of time alone.

• Practicing yoga.

In what was meant to be a two-hour yoga class at Temple this weekend, Pradeep Teotia said, “If you know where you’re going, why are you in a rush? If you don’t know where you’re going, why are you in a rush?” Perhaps he said that because he knew he would keep us longer, or perhaps he was keeping us longer because he had something important to tell us.

Regardless, the point was well made, Pradeep. Why do we rush? It does not serve us. It only accelerates life, which, ironically, we do everything we can to reverse and avoid when it appears in between our brows or under our eyes.

Looking back at my notes from the winter solstice, I had jotted down a personal commitment to not rush in 2024. I didn’t so much mean that I wanted to slow down my daily life as much as I wanted to not rush into commitments, relationships, or those bright, shiny things that I chase. I love sealing the deal, that rush of adrenaline when you get what you’ve worked so hard for, what you thought you couldn’t have, what you believe is “it.”

I don’t have a list yet of how I avoid those things; for 46 years, that has eluded me. Perhaps this will be the year that I slow down.

Have any tips for me on how to slow down when it comes to those big life decisions? What about the little things, the daily minutia that makes us feel rushed and disconnected? Let’s hear it in the comments.