April 17, 2008

Grandson Henry is in his portable crib, waking up slowly.  From the baby monitor on my desk I hear him jabbering, yawning, and what I imagine to be him laying on his back, feet in the air, kicking the soft sides of the crib.  When he starts yelling “tractor” I’ll know he is fully awake and ready to play with the miniature farm implements handed down by Uncle Todd (yes, I’ve kept them for almost 30 years).  When Henry and I descend from the upstairs guest room to enjoy a pre-breakfast encounter with the toy box, we’ll be embarking on another slow day. Why slow?  Because there’s no other way to enjoy life with a toddler. 

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Whether we’re taking a walk in the backyard, or picking up Matchbox cars, if I aim for speed I’ll be frustrated.  I recently read Carl Honore’s excellent book, In Praise of Slowness.  It was the right book at the right time—and not just because I was anticipating Henry’s weeklong visit.  I generally do thrive at a slower pace, but in a culture that praises speed, it’s easy to get caught up in the pace; every now and then I need a good reminder, and this book was it. It was also a perfect compliment to an understated quote from Gandhi: There is more to life than increasing its speed.