Lighthouse Letter VII – The safety to go slow

By: Maya Bahoshy 

The Safety to Go Slow
Fast-forwarding through life

A friend handed me her phone to listen to a podcast of Mary Oliver’s beautiful poem Wild Geese. As I was listening, I noticed something felt different, calmer. An ease and a focus settled in my body.

I then realised she was actually listening to her podcasts at x0.8!

Take one look at my phone and you’ll see that my podcasts and audiobooks are set to at least x1.5. While I appreciate that our brains process at different speeds, this stark difference had me questioning whether that was the real reason, or whether my need for speed was driven by an internal motor pushing me to consume more, to achieve more.

My friend, in turn, had given her brain the space to truly hear, her body the time to deeply feel, and the learnings the chance to be fully experienced, so that her life could be changed by them.

As I listened to the podcast at x0.8, I realised that it wasn’t just the audio I was running at x1.5. I was trying to fast-forward my way through life, through learning, rushing past moments, cramming experiences in, and rarely stopping to savour, taste, notice, feel.

That has been one of many moments that have helped me realise that humanity is being driven to live life at a speed that is not natural for us as humans, as part of the intricate web of nature, and the adoption of AI has only nudged us into an even higher gear.

Why we need to go slow

We are living in a world where there are continual signs that we are going too fast: the increasing rate of burnout of individuals, companies, countries and the planet. We have become addicted to the need for constant change. While I appreciate that change is the only constant, the rate of change is indicative of an underlying issue. How much of our need to change is because we haven’t taken the time to think about the change in the first place?

Systemic work invites us, or rather requires us, to go slow, allowing us to sink into the world, our experience and our knowledge, and to connect with wisdom, in order to make meaningful shifts.

Learning is inherently a systemic practice. Through learning, we reshape the building blocks that make up the way we think about, perceive and act upon the world, whatever the subject.

And yet, more often than not, we find ourselves trying to rush it, to cram it, to achieve, forgetting that the learning itself must be recognised as the most important outcome.

So how do we allow ourselves to slow down?

The challenge of slowing down

Being told to slow down, unsurprisingly, does not actually lead us to slow down.

The fear of being left behind, of not achieving, of not “succeeding” is deeply embedded within us. We are also living in an economic system that rewards production and productivity, and as we deal with a growing cost-of-living crisis, this reality cannot be avoided.

As a result, many of us have developed a deeply somatic, internalised drive. When we slow down, our nervous systems go into a panic, seen and felt in the racing thoughts of “am I doing enough?”, the anxiety that we will not get to the end, the constant search for something to do.

David Pontalier, after joining a few Practice sessions, described them as a luxury spa. But as in much of the self-care world, we are starting to realise that what we deem a luxury may in fact be a necessity, currently only afforded to those privileged enough to take a step back.

However, our bodies, and the world, are showing us that it is a necessity for all.

Yet permission is not enough; we need safety.

How do we create the safety to go slow?

I have been running Communities of Practice as part of the Minds community for 18 months, and one of my biggest learnings is that these spaces are fundamentally vital in helping us shift the way we think about and move through the world. And yet, it has been a process to create a space that allows us to move slowly.

I still carry this question as I learn and practise. To date, we have found a few things that help us reduce the pressure to “produce” in the typical sense, and instead reset our processes and thinking.

Firstly, we always start by taking a moment to arrive, to connect, and to appreciate the importance of slowing down to see everyone in the room and acknowledge their presence.

We introduce an inspiration (a piece of art, a poem or a quote) that shifts the pattern and speed of our brains.

We remind each other that the focus is driven by the learning question, rather than by the definite creation of an output.

We have introduced the Japanese concept of Ma, the intentional pause that is not an empty void but an active presence where space and potential can exist. After moments of deep discussion, brainstorming and idea generation, we allow the field to settle in a pause, to see what needs to emerge.

I invite you to do the same now. Take a deep breath and pause.

Finally, we take time at the end of each session to help land the intangible learnings, as a reminder of all that is happening in our minds, hearts and bodies during the session. It reminds us that even in the slowness, in the seemingly “unproductive luxury”, we often leave with even more profound learning.

What I have noticed is that when we allow ourselves those 90 minutes to connect with each other and with the question of inquiry, the learning, realisations and actions land more deeply, often in unexpected but much-needed areas.

An invitation

Slowing down will take practice. I may still listen to podcasts at x1.3 occasionally, and struggle to shift my motor into a lower gear, but I am increasingly grateful for these weekly sessions where I can practise the art of moving more slowly, yet with deep purpose. I hope you will have the chance to join me one day.

In the meantime, I leave you with this powerful invitation from Bayo Akomolafe:

“These times are urgent, let’s slow down.”