Is Slow the New Fast?

Hustle, slay, lean in? Just typing those words makes me tired. And unmotivated. And grouchy.

I don't want to hustle or slay. And, if I lean in, it had better be with a loved one, a pillow, or a hot fudge sundae.

I've done the hustle, I don't know if I've ever really slayed something (I hope not), and the "leans ins" I have initiated have been with people. If I have to do a hustle or a slay again, it had better be serious and without not another choice on earth.

This is not to say I have not achieved, attained, pulled off, managed, etc. I did. I did!

But now slow is the new fast.

See, this is where midlife comes in really, really handy. No one is breathing down my neck with their expectations. No one is trying to tell me what to do and how to do it. The only one I'm competing with is me, and I am winning. Winning at being utterly, thoroughly, and sometimes imperfectly moi. I'm getting stuff done and—surprise!—I'm happier.

I am thanking my lucky stars for midlife! Why are people's panties in such a knot about midlife? It happens to be one of the best-kept secrets on earth. I certainly didn't know about it before I got here. Why? 'Cause I was hustling so fast and so hard that I didn't have the luxury to contemplate that there might be a better and less soul-sucking way to move in the world.

Who knew that ruminating, imagining, dreaming, scheming, meditating, and—what?—resting would marinate into reality? Why didn't I know this before?

Well, I just didn't, and there is nothing to be done about it—except to learn from my mistakes. And I have, so here you have it: Slow is the new fast.

It is an infinite blessing, the gift that keeps on giving. You may wonder how this can be true, but I urge you to try it, in earnest; give it a real go and see if it works for you. Maybe it won't but, at least for a while, you may feel better. 

I believe that, when you slow down, you give opportunities a chance to appear. Serendipity and seeming coincidences happen, right there in front of your eyes. I didn't believe it myself until I tried it and the sky didn't fall down. And then, holy smokes, things started to fall into place more easily and I felt more relaxed about life. Way. More. Relaxed.

It took some time for my body to get used to the ease. And I stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop when I read that writer Anne Lamott says that God only has one shoe. Let's go with that, why don't we?

I have finally, finally stopped pushing the river. I have been a willful woman, and that helped in a few areas of my life, but this new way of being feels infinitely better. I rarely feel like pinching anybody.

This "slow is the new fast" is a sweet spot, a place to catch our breath and identify our Soul Flow. To establish your own rhythms, by your own fine self. 

Who would have known that such an at-odds-with-society concept could usher in grace, small miracles, and a peek at what your soul has been trying to bring you all along?

It's a new era all around you, mid-lifers; let's usher it in, in our own way, in our own time—because we own our life. We will not, must not, hand over our precious rhythms to anyone other than our own fabulous selves.

Find out about upcoming programs with Rosie Dalton at Kripalu.

This essay originally appeared on Rosie’s blog.