Hitting the brakes ...



High-speed internet, fast food restaurants, perilous interstates — I want to slow down.
A mental picture rewinds from the movie, Fried Green Tomatoes. The ceiling fans in the Whistle Stop Cafe labor against hot, humid air like a spatula moving through thick molasses. Droplets of water stream down glasses of sweet iced tea. The soundtrack rolls "Cool Down Yonder" in the slow, sultry voice of Marion Williams.
In sweltering heat, people talk slower, move slower, maybe even think slower. I witnessed this working at a mission in Jamaica during my first summer out of high school.
While my husband was recuperating at Atlanta's Piedmont Hospital one hot week in August, I experimented with slowing my pace to mitigate the heat. I discovered that 90+ degree weather is manageable at a snail's pace.
Slow is not a bad thing. How much detail can you see while zooming along the roadside at 70 mph? Versus a slow, leisurely walk between the roses?
Our pastor speaks highly of his wife's ability for speed reading. It's enviable, especially when processing work-related information— the reams you have to read when there is precious little time. When reading for pleasure, I prefer a different cadence — time to savor the author's words, inhale a fragrant setting, languish in the heroine's heartache.
In the midst of a good novel, I hear the words, spoken in a voice like Vanessa Redgrave's mellow, adagio narration from BBC's "Call the Midwife." Obviously, it takes longer to read at this pace; I get my money's worth from novels. It's unlikely I will run short of books to read in retirement, many of which are stacked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa waiting for the day.
I'm intentionally winding down. Putting on the brakes to avoid collision in our break-neck world. Pass the iced peach tea, please. I have a Pat Conroy novel to read.

~ LowTide explorer, Carolyn Fjeran
[LowTide is an eclectic collection of discoveries and reflective writings.]

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