You and me, we’re always in motion.
Yet, here’s the truth: we slow down for the things we love. In other words, the things we love, we spend more time with.
Picture . . . a partner or friend of ours as we slow down together and really connect . . . or a pet of ours that we take the time to feed, groom, express affection towards and appreciation of its company . . . or a musical instrument . . . or music at all . . . or our own child (in a kinder world, any child) as we literally stop, engage playfully on their level, gawk at their cleverness, and discover some more of our own . . .
. . . we slow down . . . in order to experience more fully . . . to get to know more about them, it, us, ourselves . . .
to interact deeper . . .
. . . to let something intangible touch something intangible . . . we willingly slow down
So . . . when we are going too fast with the things or people we love . . . we feel conflicted . . .
. . . if I’m not spending much time with them (or it), I either don’t really love them or I’m ignoring them . . .
. . . so, do I only think that I love them or think that I’m supposed to love them?
Or
Am I noticing that I’m hardly spending any time with them at all, slow time, or at least as much as we want to, or should? This sense of the truth nags at us as we ignore it.
We’ve come to call it guilt.
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