Last year I was getting messages everywhere to slow down. Nature was telling me, the earth was telling me, my body was telling me, my soul was telling me. I even swam with a green sea turtle in the Great Barrier Reef that told me to slow down.

This was not a message I wanted to hear. I am tired of being slow. Being slow meant I was depressed, a failure, not achieving, alone and pathetic. I had my fair share of all of those over my lifetime. I have dreams now; I am fiery and energetic and take action. I am strong-willed and determined and driven. I’m a survivor; I’m an independent woman on a mission. I don’t have time to slow down!

 

But I needed to heed the signals and the messages. I knew that the universe would force me to slow down if I didn’t do it myself. I had learnt the hard way. I’d ignored those messages in the past and was forced to slow down with a serious ankle injury that took up to 18 months to recover from, breaking it twice in that time.

 

It did not make sense to me, I did not know how to slow down, my anxiety and my need to excel and achieve kept me in motion and prevented me from wallowing and falling in a heap. Making sense of slowing down was a journey I had to go on. A deep journey, into the darkness and back. Over and over and over. Even now, it is a constant daily awareness of my energy and checking in with myself.

 

For me, this journey was the height of self-development, spiritual development, business development and relationships. It was about balance, flow, connection and letting go. It was a battle with time, my children, rules and expectations. It constantly trusted the invisible. The unseen, the subtle flow of energies within and without.

 

I still can’t quite describe it as I feel I’m still in it, just emerging from the lesson of slowing down. I am implementing ways across my life to schedule slowness, to practice mindfulness and presence, to say no, to question and check in with me and my energy. My body knows, you see. It pulls me towards things or backs away. I have learnt to honour that.

 

And the beautiful thing about going slow is that I, in fact, speed up. Less haste, more speed, the turtle and the hare. All those age-old fables and sayings. I actually get them now. I embody them. I’m no longer frustrated and impatient, for they are my flags; they are the warning signs that I am going too fast.

 

And another bonus is, I don’t seem to get so many speeding fines in the mail 😉

 

 

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