Is it a virtue or a torture?I have grown up believing that to be fast is best. I was told to be quick in everything and absentmindedly developing the constant need to be told to rush. And that’s how I treat myself when I’m alone too. Despite the fact that I can now not rush, there’s part of my mind would quietly rushed me and make a chaos in my head, just to keep it fast. I still remember how that part of me kept me wanting to see those adoring gestures from others out of amazement to how fast I can be; it can all be equate to one moment on my sport day where I ran on the racing track and won the race as a champion. Those proud moments in my life was one of the landmark in my memory that I can vividly picture out evertyime. It originated from a physical speed and it wired through my entire being. And I clung to that definition of success; to be fast. I was told that being the best is all about being the fastest in the crowd. I turned out to be a competitive person that I am today. So competitive that when I didn’t please you immediately, it hurts me. I lost my believe in trusting my own process long ago that if the results were not there, I couldn’t see anything good can be existing of me anymore. I lost hope millions of time in myself and never seem to learn how to speed off the pain. I didn’t quite understand why I cannot control this part of me by being fast. And even if I can, the pain would find me again and I will be spending my time chasing it away. It’s like I was meant to be this way. Forever a chaser in every way. Hence, I believe slowness can be a torture.
I also growing up having to slow down when I’m scared. I’m scared of many things that even in naming them scare me. So the idea of slowing down scares me. It still does somehow. It’s like something that I know I need but never cared to try- for it will only make me cry. Then, I don’t remember when, I had someone (perhaps more than one) in my life that had assured me to just let myself cry out from time to time. It took years out from my life to believe in my own cry. To tame that scary part of me simply by crying. And in crying I cannot speed it up, I have to go slow. That’s when I slowly in a long while, starting to understand why slowing down is okay. Obliviously, carrying myself from there, I progressed to a point in my life where I can say to myself that it’s okay to slow down not only to things that scare me most but to things that doesn’t scare me too. It’s okay to not go fast, to not be the best from the rest. For the rest is not me. Thus, from where I came from, I took a long time (which mean I am slow) in making myself ready to embrace who I am. Therefore now, I believe slowness can also be a virtue.
I am only saying this to myself. I’m in the process of telling her to go slow until she’s ready to go fast again.
