Slow Culture
A nostalgia for the Mediterranean
I’m in Lenox, where I now live. I decided this morning to go out and get myself a croissant and a drink before work. The goal was to sit at a coffee shop and read a book. I learned however, that my favorite coffee shop is closed on Mondays. So now, I’m sitting at a bench listening to the birds, and feeling the sun on my face. It’s quite nice. But, there’s no one else around. And, I can hear cars going by in the distance, and see cars passing by on the streets.
There is a juxtaposition arising in my memories. I’m in Bordeaux sitting at a coffee shop terrace. There are people everywhere. They litter the streets like slow moving flowers in a winding river. They find eddies to sit in, roll through, and watch life pass by. There’s an ease, and a slowness here. While they sit at their coffee tables reading the paper or talking in melodic French to friends, life around them has no issue with their choice. And they’re not alone.
I feel alone here on this bench. For there is no one to share this lovely morning with. Here, people are always on the go, or already at work. Here, people drive from place to place instead of walking among the streets and enjoying the day. An occasional, purposeful dog walker passes. It’s too fast. Too driven.
The culture America is too fast for me. I feel out of place, judged in my choosing to slow down. I receive confused glances from driver who pass by, as I sit and savor the blessed return of the sun, and enjoy my tea in peace. I feel interrupted by the constant sound of motors humming by, instead of people’s voices. A truck nearby has stalled in an intersection, and the driver revs its motor over and over again.
So, while I am enjoying myself here in the sun, I’m also realizing why I love Europe so much, and why I want to move there. It’s about the shared culture of enjoyment, and the chosen pace of life. It’s about a communal decision to savor life, instead of trying to conquer it. Perhaps there’s something to be said for the economy here. Perhaps people feel their need to stay afloat. Perhaps this is why a croissant costs upward of six dollars. In France, they don’t cost six dollars. Is a privilege to stop and smell the roses, or is it a choice?
Overall, this is a good realization, because it helps me direct my life more. It helps me understand myself better, and what I love and need. And so, I’m grateful. But, there’s also a nostalgia, a melancholy, and a gentle grief that where I want to be is not where I am. And yet, where I am is still very beautiful. And I feel very lucky to be here. How can that be?
How to hold these taunting parallels, these tensely turning paradoxes? How to be fully here, and also to await a life I know I love? How to bring gratefulness while allowing desire still to live? How to feel whole and complete while still growing forth? I suppose all plants do this. They are complete and still they keep growing. Could there be a way forward without lack, while still clarifying my vision and working toward it?
That is the way I’d like to walk. So, until then, I will choose to slow down, to feel the sun on my face, to surround myself with people and projects that align with that life of enjoyment, of savoring, of chosen peace. And I will await the day I return to a style of being, a culture of care. And I will await it with love for this moment, for while dreams, memories, and fantasies have their uses, now is the life I’m living.
And, as I close this piece, and walk toward work, I feel a sense of peace instilled in my from my choice, from the love I gave myself this morning in allowing slowness and ease. There is nothing stopping me from choosing this always, in every day, whether I’m encouraged by culture or not. I have agency as to how I walk. As I learned on the Camino, “it’s not what, it’s how.”
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Recently, after getting a facial, I began questioning why skincare applied by someone else was so enjoyable and relaxing, but when doing the same routine at home, I treat it like a chore. In slowing down, even the most mundane daily tasks can bring peace and joy. Hopefully those giving a confused look will someday find the joy of slowing down.