Slowing Down

I made it through the National Gallery in record time. With the look of a speed walker, I made my way through the impressionists, portraits, religious art, and abstracts in a way that made each piece a blur. My classmates arrived in the lobby an hour later, and I stood there proud that I had won, which is how I felt. But the fact was, I made it through the gallery fast, but I never saw any of the art. I walked by paintings and sculptures, but I never stopped and looked, felt, or experienced one piece.

I’d like to say that experience long ago was unique, but I know better. Everywhere I look I see how I am always racing. Whether through the grocery store, a social gathering, or even church, I seem fixed on making it to the lobby in record time. Just this week I was skiing and found myself racing down slopes rather than taking in the view, the air, and the sound. Yes, I made it to the bottom in record time, but I don’t remember a thing about the run.

Lent is a season when we slow down and try to feel, see, smell, taste, and hear our lives again. For people like me, that’s a big undertaking. I’ve always found it easier to lower my shoulder and put greater effort (and speed) into things, but what Lent asks is that we lift our shoulders, take a deep breath, and look around. In doing so, we will re-discover our place in the world, the people who walk beside us, and the wonder that surrounds us. The world constantly says, “speed up,” but our souls cry out, “slow down”.

This is the season that asks, to which are we listening?