"Move in slow motion for me." - Juvenile, Slow Motion (feat. Soulja Slim)
The phrase “slow reading” goes back at least as far as the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who in 1887 described himself as a “teacher of slow reading.” The way he phrased it, you know he thought he was bucking the tide. That makes sense, because the modern world, i.e., a world built upon the concept that fast is good and faster is better, was just getting up a full head of steam. In the century and a quarter since he wrote, we have seen the world fall in love with speed in all its guises, including reading—part of President John F. Kennedy’s legend was his ability to speed read through four or five newspapers every morning. And this was all long before computers became household gadgets and our BFFs.
Now and then the Nietzsches of the world have fought back. Exponents of New Criticism captured the flag in the halls of academe around the middle of the last century and made “close reading” all the rage. Then came Slow Food, then Slow Travel, then Slow Money. And now there is Slow Reading. In all these initiatives, people have fought against the velocity of modern life by doing … less and doing it slower. - Malcom Jones on the slow reading movement via Newsweek's Tumblr
Which leads to...
The Slow Web would be more like a book, retaining many of the elements of the Popular Web, but unhurried, re-considered, additive. Research would no longer be restricted to rapid responders. Conclusions would be intentionally postponed until sufficiently noodled-with. Writers could budget sufficient dream-time before setting pixel to page. Fresh thinking would no longer have to happen in real time. - Rebecca Blood on The Slow Web as quoted by Ms. Jen Hanen
Ms. Jen's blog post was the first of these two things I saw this week and it provided some clarity to this nagging feeling I've had of late that I couldn't put my finger on. It may be the intensity of work these last few months but I don't think that's all of it. In general, I want to make better use of my time. I want to allow for the space with which to think about things. I want to not feel the constant pressure to be faster.
I want to slow down.
That this is a common occurrence at times when technology is moving faster than humans can process and adapt to that change provides some comfort. One of the unintended consequences of mobile devices, and in particular the iPad for me, is that I'm never without a screen. I'm always dialed in. I'm rarely not consuming.
Where does that leave time to create even if that creation is just a unique thought? I've started taking more time to write blog posts. I don't feel the need to be timely like I once did. As I mentioned in Ms. Jen's comments, "There are sooo many voices that being "first" or being part of the initial conversation (blog conversations happen much much more rarely these days) isn't as important."
What is important is feeling like I actually have something meaningful to say. What is important is that I have the time to put together words in ways I'm proud of. I don't write just because. I write because I like the craft. It's one of my primary outlets for creativity.
I'm also taking Jen's advice on managing the pressure I feel from the burden of staying current. I've broken my feeds down by days and outside of my "every day" bucket, I'll only read groupings of material by day. Two days in and there's a nice freedom this brings. Coupled with that, though, have been odd pangs of longing.
Addicted to feeds? Oy.
Let's press pause.
