Slow Down And Live Life As An Artist

Listen to the big guy on the porch.

When I was a kid, speeding on our little street was a mistake because everyone for blocks around could hear my dad yell, “Slow down!”

I am sure it was startling for the person in the car.

Dad was a big man with a big voice, so they heard him and sometimes even slowed down.

As an adult, I do the same thing. I yell, “Slow down” to cars traveling too fast on our little street.

I doubt they hear me. I’m not that big, nor does my voice carry that far, but it reminds me to slow down—in life.

Slow Down. Save A Life.

You’ve seen the signs that say, “Slow Down And Save A Life.”

It’s a message with quite a double-meaning kick to it.

In a world where we measure our speed to get somewhere or do something, we miss something very important—our lives.

• Instead of speeding up, why not slow down and see what you are missing?

• Instead of using a timer to measure your speed, why not measure your ability to do something slowly?

How slowly can you peel a potato, wash your hands, plant a flower, or walk to the mailbox?

What would we see and experience if we did that instead of rushing from point to point?

Live life like a dance.

This idea of rushing from point to point reminds me of the art of dance.

An untrained dancer moves from pose to pose.

The trained and practiced dancer makes the movements between poses even more essential than the pose itself, which only serves as a pivot point for moving again with intention and meaning.

With life, it is not the result, the place to be, or the thing to do that is important; it is the doing of it, with meaning and grace, which makes us artists of Life.

Have you ever noticed that nothing changes in nature when the power goes out?

Nature continues in its same rhythm of life.

We can easily slip into that rhythm if we let go of the hurry-hurry feeling.

Time Flows

Scientists now confirm what most of us have known: time speeds up or slows down depending on what we are doing or thinking.

If we accept the worldview that we will be provided with all that we need only by matching the fast-paced world, we will miss the point of life itself and no longer be artists of it.

What’s the rush?

When we speed past cars to get somewhere five minutes sooner, what do we miss along the way? What do we miss when we rush to finish a book, prepare a meal, or get dressed in the morning?

Life isn’t about how fast we can do something or how quickly we can arrive at a destination.

It is so much more meaningful than that.

Life life as an artist.

Living life slowly is an art that benefits both the artist and the viewer.

We’ll see other people’s lives and become part of them, whether for a moment or many years.

We’ll see both the sunrise and the sunset and watch them both longer than just the few seconds it takes to comment on the beautiful colors.

Instead, we’ll see what the trees, birds, and plants do as the world passes through dawn or twilight.

We’ll find clues to the divine nature of everything that will bring us back to the center of ourselves instead of living life with a thousand tentacles waving in the air like a crazed multi-octopus.

We’ll have time to sit and listen to the sounds around us or someone sharing.

Infinite provision.

We’ll have time to notice and experience infinite provision at work.

In the same way, the moon always follows where we are, so we’ll notice and feel that we are at the center of the harmony surrounding us.

If life doesn’t feel like art or the center of harmony, we may need a big guy with a loud voice yelling from the porch, “Slow Down!”

If we heed it, it will be both a protection and a gift.

To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts. Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour. —Henry David Thoreau