Slow.

The first week I explored Barcelona, I checked my phone 50,000 times. No emails. No messages. No phone calls. Oh yeah, that’s right….I didn’t have a job. No one knew my Spanish phone number. And silly me, it was night time in Oklahoma. 

For me, the hardest part of travel was letting go of the life I used to know and adjusting to the life I was currently facing at the time.

As an American, and a high performer, slow was not my speed. If I wasn’t producing, I wasn’t effective. Unknowingly, I’d tied my worth, my value, my place in this world to the outcome I produced at my job.  When I let go of the need to be in control, broke up with my email, and looked around me, there was a great big world waiting to be explored.

Imagine my surprise when I went to a cafe around the corner for a late afternoon lunch only to find the lights off and doors locked. A sign was taped to the door saying, “Closed For Siesta.” Seriously.

“Never in America,” I remember thinking. 

Siesta. That’s one Spanish word that became all too familiar. It’s legit. Businesses and restaurants close for hours mid-day to pause and rest. Doors were locked, streets were emptier than usual and business mostly ceased. 

I didn’t know how to pause. To rest. It was foreign and unfamiliar…until one day it wasn’t.

Right now, experiencing social distancing and house arrest feels a lot like that first week in Barcelona. Life as I knew it two weeks ago doesn’t exist. Everything has come to a halt. Business isn’t as usual, and I’m once again having to adjust to the life I’m currently facing. 

Life is suddenly slow, which is unfamiliar and foreign. And that’s the kicker. 

I realized that even in the midst of holding white space on my calendar, I’ve filled my time again with random, unimportant stuff. Things seemed more important than people. Accomplished tasks more important than conversations or personal connections.

This virus, my dad having surgery, projects being put on hold, events being canceled - they’re honestly such a blessing. At least I choose to see them that way. I’m gently reminded that slow is more my speed. 

I’m wired for connection and creativity. And I’d neglected them when I was operating at warp speed, trying to do all the things for all the people. Only this time I didn’t have to travel the globe to be reminded of what I’d lost. 

Travel helped me discover the simplest gestures that light me up - conversations where we lose track of time, laughing until my belly hurts, listening to another person’s story with a natural curiosity, long walks exploring the winding streets, getting lost in a good book or spending an entire day without checking the time. Even a good cry on my yoga mat. 

Books. Conversations. Yoga. Movies. Laughter. This is how I spent my weekend. It’s these activities I want to fill my calendar, even if they’re virtual for a little while longer.

I am reminded that this season in all it’s uncertainty is serving me well, much like Barcelona. I’m continually called to trust in something bigger than myself. In a plan that my sweet human brain cannot comprehend no matter how many A’s I received on my report cards. 

So yeah, the world may feel like it’s falling apart. Slowing down. Halting, even. It’s foreign and unfamiliar. But what if, sweet souls, it’s not falling apart? What if it’s all falling into place?