Finding a Slower Pace 

Finding a Slower Pace

It’s two months ago on a Monday and I’m walking down a bright hospital corridor, unknowingly about to receive a lesson on slowing down.

Soft LED light blankets the long sterile hallway, and scrub-clad employees shuffle behind large double doors in the distance.

It’s mid-morning, but I’ve been here since 5 a.m. And now, with the “all-clear” on my eight-year-old daughter Elena’s outpatient tonsillectomy, she sits somnolently in a transport wheelchair beside me. 

A young, freckled volunteer eagerly grabs the chair’s handles and pushes, determined to get us to the parking garage. I walk beside him, carrying bags and discharge instructions, grateful for a guide through the maze-like hallways of Texas Children’s Hospital.

As we head toward the elevator, I can see my daughter looks uneasy. Having just woken from anesthesia an hour prior, she’s woozy. Her face looks pale.

“Can you please slow down a bit?” I blurt out to our escort.

He replies, “Of course,” slows a bit, but seconds later resumes his near-normal speed. 

“Slow down,” I say. “Like, way down.”

Our feet form a new rhythm that won’t further unsettle my daughter’s queasy stomach.

We’re moving slooooowly. And it is so unnatural. Slow feels like a foreign speed to me, to our escort, and likely to most everyone around us. 

***

Truth is, the pace of our culture is not slow; it’s the antithesis of it.

And as a result, we’ve become conditioned to expect the instantaneous. Waiting, being bored, allowing unfilled time to pass—it feels unnatural.

Slowing down and sinking into the moment—into ourselves, our surroundings, our reality—takes practice. 

It’s up to us to retrain our brains to adopt a slower pace—brains bombarded with notifications, work emails, and a steady stream of digital noise. Brains chasing dopamine on screens in a society that has normalized overstimulation.

A few years ago, researcher David Levy coined the term “popcorn brain” to describe how our mental faculties are now functioning. Levy says constant exposure to fast, bite-sized digital content—like social media, emails, and notifications—can make slower-paced activities (reading, quiet thinking, even conversation) feel unstimulating. 

Our brains are getting so used to rapid “pops” of information that they struggle with sustained attention. They struggle to slow down. Searching for the next hit, they become unable to absorb the moment. 

***

“I’m not used to walking at this speed,” I comment as we round a corner. I feel like I’m crawling.

“Me neither,” he replies. “I’m naturally a fast walker.”

I decide against making more small talk, and instead focus on moving slowly. It takes effort. I methodically place one step on the terrazzo tiles and then the other. 

This is the same route we took this morning, I think. Granted, it was early, but it looks completely different. 

I hadn’t noticed half of the things now registering in my senses.

Photos of Austin cityscapes adorn the walls and a solemn security guard is perched on a stool outside a gift shop. Get-well-soon knickknacks line the shop’s window. Where was all this earlier today? I wonder.

I shift my focus back to Elena, settled in the wheelchair. My connection to her feels stronger, my mind clearer. Finding a slower pace has brought me fully into this moment with my daughter—and the moment is richer for it. 

***

When we slow down, we experience life more deeply. We drink in its intricacies and linger in its moments.

Author Ann Voskamp says, “I want to slow down and taste life… and see God.”

When it’s put that way, slowing down may be one of the most important practices we can master.

Our tendency to hurry is culturally imposed. And when we give in to haste, we miss opportunities to connect with God and others.

That day at the hospital, I was reminded that there is something sacred in slowing down. It was a reminder I didn’t know I needed. Maybe it’s one for you, too.

How can you slow down this week? I encourage you to experiment with one or two slow-living practices over the next few days. Here’s are some ideas:

• Linger in the sunshine.
• Walk half your normal speed.
• Eat slowly and savor each bite.
• Drive the speed limit.
• Take the scenic route.
• Single-task your attention.
• Purposefully wait in the longest line at the grocery store.
• Pretend you’re 90 and looking back on your life at this moment. How would you view it differently?
• Choose one item on your to–do list to let go of.
• Commit to making eye contact with everyone who speaks to you.
• Intentionally spend time in nature and study its pace.

Dr. Caroline Leaf writes, “Perhaps living your best life simply means pausing long enough to notice how good it already is.”

So here’s to moving more slowly—through hospital corridors, our own homes, and our lives.

Here’s to looking up, to pausing, and to finding the right pace—a slower one that magnifies the good and beautiful details that make up our one life. 

***

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