These days, it’s difficult not to be overwhelmed. There are always at least five things fighting for our attention, from the second the alarm rings in the morning to the moments spent scrolling social media before bed—finding a break from constant entertainment has to be intentional for it to happen.
Living in the city, there are always competing sounds. Right now alone I can hear the highway, emergency sirens, the neighbors downstairs, a helicopter, the air conditioner kicking on, birds chirping, leaves rustling in the wind, bees buzzing entirely too close to my head, and of course, the never-ending string of my own thoughts.
I’m never doing only one thing. At any given moment, I’m simultaneously checking Instagram, listening to an audiobook, slacking a co-worker, and contemplating an email response. I’m answering text messages and catching up on a podcast, going for a walk and talking to a friend who lives across the country, eating dinner and watching Love Island (UK, of course).
And my body is protesting—tension migraines, rapid heart rate, inability to fall or stay asleep, the pit in my stomach and the rush of anxiety I feel in my veins at the memory of uncompleted tasks or embarrassing moments. Waking up wired and ready to tackle an ever expanding to-do list each morning. The desperate need I feel at all times for a deep breath and a wave of calm.
On one of the first warmer spring days this year, I decided to make a smoothie. I opened the freezer and the fridge, piled all my ingredients into my arms at once and haphazardly carried them to the counter rather than making two trips. From there, I sped through the smoothie-making process, dumping and scooping and pouring at record speed, as if someone were standing in the kitchen with a stopwatch clocking me. In under five minutes, I was pouring the frozen green beverage into an oversized mason jar and triumphantly poking a silicone straw through the top.
I realized later that I forgot to include lime juice, even though the lime was sitting right next to the blender on the counter. If I’d paused my chaotic energy for even a second, I might have noticed it sitting there. I’ve wondered several times since then: why am I always moving so quickly? Why am I rushing back to my desk, even though I have a low-stress job and no emails await me after approximately three minutes away? Why am I always skipping ahead to the next thing, even as I’m experiencing the moment I was previously anticipating?
I type fast, scroll fast, work fast. Last year, I worked so quickly and tirelessly in attempts to lessen my team’s workload that I inadvertently bit off more than I could chew. A year later, I am still trying to recover from the burnout. On too many occasions, I was physically shaking at the end of the workday, barely able to work up the energy required to walk my dog or calm down enough to make it through yoga.
The last few days, I’ve been experimenting with slowing down on purpose, and I’ve been genuinely surprised with the thoughts that come up when I drive to an appointment in silence instead of accompanied by an audiobook, or sit staring out the window for a moment between tasks instead of incessantly referring back to my Trello board. I noticed the shadow of an airplane passing overhead, found myself wondering whether garbage and recycling truck drivers wear earplugs, because the banging of the emptying bins is so loud (I sincerely hope they do), pondered what it would be like to soar through the sky like the hawk I just saw swoop overhead.
I noticed a lot of things I’m missing in my tornado of swirling chaos, I practiced box breathing (shout-out to therapy), and I sneezed because deep breaths of pollen have that effect on me in Tennessee. And I didn’t have to sacrifice anything from my to-do list in the process (aside from hours of mindless social media scrolling, which doesn’t get me anywhere anyways). It takes practice, (I have to actually tell myself “slow down” at least a hundred times a day), but my mind and my body are begging me to stop, look, listen, and I am trying my best to obey.
Olivia graduated from Calvin in May 2018 with a double major in business and writing. She now works as an editor in Nashville, Tennessee and is eating her way through the restaurants of her new town. She enjoys weekend trips with friends, petting other people’s dogs, and drinking coffee like a Gilmore Girl.
