Slow Praise

Government-sponsored spa treatments? Six weeks of yearly vacation? Beck’s beer at a movie theatre? During a recent stay in Germany, I noticed a dedication to leisure and sensory pleasure that was evident even at the movies. It really is as common to drink a beer at a German cinema as it is a Coke. And, perhaps even more revolutionary, movie-goers stay to watch the film credits. Willingly. Until the very end, when the roman numerals come up to mark the year the film was completed.

Now, the beer was a novelty that I immediately took to. But hanging out to watch an endless stream of unfamiliar names made me impatient. Peer pressure being what it is, though, I inevitably sat with everyone else in the theatre to watch them roll.

And then gradually, unexpectedly, my impatience gave way and I came to savor those moments. While trying vainly to figure out what a gaffer was or what a 2^nd assistant director did, or why on earth character X needed a stunt double, I developed an awareness of all the people needed to turn out a movie. This added context to whatever film I had just seen, and left me more appreciative of the effort that had gone into what was so effortlessly enjoyed. Those few contemplative moments, where nothing was happening, also left me enveloped in a certain stillness, and I exited the theatre absent my usual haste. My “leisure activity” felt leisurely for a change.

Since then, I have noticed other ways that people tend to rush – from home to work, to finish a workout, or in preparing dinner “in 10 minutes or less!” I’ve also come to see multitasking as a form of rushing. Not only do we zip to work, but we eat breakfast en route; we read the paper when we hit the treadmill; and dinner prep gets done while watching the news. Even dog owners multitask, talking on cell phones as they walk their pets.

We are part of both a culture and an era that revere productivity – a high ratio of yield to time – and this translates into an impetus to be efficient, to accomplish, to be goal-oriented, and never to waste a moment. Rushing gets us sooner to the next event, and multitasking seems to mean we get more done in less time. Impressive!

Yet we find ourselves in a bind. In chasing after the (often short-lived) high that comes with getting “results,” we sacrifice the pleasures inherent in simply savoring the moments along the way. Rushing postpones pleasure: we cannot be in the moment when we are intent on making it to the next one. Busy people may be admired, but are not necessarily fulfilled. By slowing down and being oriented to the process rather than the outcome, we allow ourselves a certain kind of joy that comes from connecting with the moment. We can then take pleasure in our surroundings, in our bodies, in the people we are with, and we also create a space for our creativity to emerge.

Imagine the difference between driving to work and noticing the feeling of the sun through the windshield on your face, versus frantically trying to beat the next yellow light. It is a matter of where you direct your attention, and whether you are in a moment or ahead of it. Think, too, about what it would be like on that drive if your attention wasn’t divided between not dripping coffee on your shirt, deciding which lane is fastest, etc. It is when you remove all these sources of tension and distraction that your mind is free to be creative and inspired.

Think about going to the gym to single-mindedly push through all your sets of strength work in order to be home by 6, as opposed to doing what you can in the time you have. In the second instance, you might be more inclined to take a moment to chat and connect with someone, or you might slow down your reps and discover enjoyment in feeling your body’s fluid movements, or a better sense of how your muscles interact to lift the weight. The point is that you have left yourself more available to appreciate what the moment has to bring you.

Finally, picture the difference between taking a break from preparing dinner to stop and listen to your child’s doubts about giving a speech in school the next day, rather than trying to check the recipe while processing her words. You may be more efficient taking the second route, assuming your divided attention doesn’t lead you to misread the recipe – or her mood.

It can be harder to name or quantify what we gain from slowing down, and this perhaps makes it easier to forget what we are missing. Things like feeling connected to other people, inner calmness, or attunement to our bodies and our environment. If you have been doing a lot but still feeling stressed or as if something is missing, consider slowing some things down and giving your complete attention to all of your senses in the moment. The next time you walk your dog, just walk your dog. Smell the air; notice which directions he pulls you in; acknowledge the other dog walkers you pass. Forget about what you have to do after the walk. The next time you talk to someone, try just to talk to them. Give them your full attention. Don’t covertly check an email at the same time, or wonder what you will buy your mom for her birthday.

And maybe the next time you are at a film, stay to the very end, even though the lights will have come on long before. Try to withstand the restlessness of your friends, or the question of where you will go next for dinner, and just pay attention to what you are seeing, or what you are feeling about the movie, good or bad. Enjoy those moments, savor them for the chance they give you to stay absorbed in the film. Because once you leave the theatre, the moment is lost.

Jessey Bernstein

Jessey Bernstein is a native Montrealer with a PhD in Clinical Psychology, and will soon be starting a private psychotherapy practice here. Jessey is also a certified group fitness instructor and currently teaches at the Westmount YMCA. She is passionate about mind and body health, as well as the importance of a work-life balance. You can contact her by email at DrBernstein@gmail.com