“Stop and smell the roses” has always been one of my favorite sayings. As a child, I took the advice quite literally, and there are dozens of photographs of little me to prove it. Of course, this gem of wisdom goes well beyond flowers. To stop, to slow down, to smell, appreciate, and more fully experience our world suggests, nothing short of, an entirely new way of living. But how do you say, “slow down,” let only live the idea, in our culture of capitalism? -In a culture that, above all else, values efficiency and success, albeit a rather narrow definition of the word. To quote Adam Smith's 1776, The Wealth of Nations, in a free-market economy, “every individual necessarily labors to render the annual revenue of society as great as he can.” In other words, to increase the Gross National Product.
In this regard, at least, I think we
have succeeded. Consider the floating island of waste in the North
Pacific. Consider that in most households both adults work long hours
week after week after week, and, if lucky, will receive two or three
weeks paid vacation each
year. Consider that we have increased our daily intake by at least
300 calories per day since 1985; consider that, for the sake of
efficiency, we now ingest a reported fifth of
these daily calories in the car. Consider the national rates of heart
disease and obesity; our population simply can't increase our demand
for food as quickly as the food industry can produce more of it. (In
the spirit of increasing revenue, however, the industry has largely
overcome this hurdle with marketing campaigns such as “supersizing”
and other insidious changes to our way of eating -the full effects of
which still remain largely undetermined.)
In a culture driven
by producing and consuming ever-more stuff, “slowing down” may
not be as simple as it sounds. It may not even be a solution. But
maybe, just maybe, it is. “Slow Food” is the name of a movement
that began in Italy in the 1980s to combat our increasingly
fast-paced way of life. They emphasize savoring good food, eaten in
good company. Their messages is that a slower, more thoughtful, more
appreciative way of eating and living would not only improve our
health, but have other cultural benefits as well.
Considers this
example. What might the effects be if we reinstated the seemingly
fundamental -but ever diminishing- family meal. To paraphrase some of
Micheal Pollan's ideas from his book, In Defense of Food,
children might learn more patience if they had to wait between meals
rather than popping a frozen entree into the microwave at the first
twinges of hunger. They might learn to control their portion sizes.
And wouldn't children and adults alike appreciate and, therefore,
waste less food if they had taken some part in the preparation or
clean-up of the meal? What's more, children might learn social skills
such as table manners and polite conversation -not to mention an
overall deepening of family relationships- if we just took the time
to sit down together and eat.
But that's just it,
isn't it? We simply don't have the time. Or do we? In less than two
decades, the average American has somehow found the time to add 1-2
hours spent on the internet every day. Clearly, there is a balance of
priorities involved as well. Aside from eating well and eating
together, what else do we no longer have the time for? Walking to
school or work -or walking anywhere, for that matter. Stopping to
chat. With the advent of the self-check-out line, we can now complete
an entire shopping experience without ever having to stop and
interact with anyone.
Perhaps
most distressing of all, we don't have time for solitude and for
meditation. Even in our moments of alone time, is there any room for
deep contemplation -for introspection- given the near-constant
buzzing from phone calls, texts, emails and face-book notifications
coming from the mobile device in our pocket? Can we even call it
“alone time” anymore? To paraphrase from an article by Stephan
Marchie titled “Is Facebook Making Us Lonely?” the author
concludes that one of the most interesting phenomenons of social
media isn’t that is is making us more lonely, but rather, that it
is changing the very nature of solitude itself. Whereas these moments
may have once been spent marveling at nature or searching our souls,
they are now increasingly spent contemplating our next status update
or wondering what vacation pictures we should post online; In other
words, we are spending a lot more time thinking about the digital
version of ourselves that we wish to present, rather than thinking
about the version of ourselves that we actually are.
I am
not suggesting that we throw away our mobile devices and head for the
hills to “find ourselves.” What I am suggesting, though, is that
we see more, notice more, and appreciate more in our day-to-day
living. I'm convinced that doing so will improve our physical health
as well as our internal sense of identity, awareness, and well-being.
What is the power of noticing?
Well, Barbara Ann Kipfer's, 14,000 Things to be Happy About
gives us some idea. Kipfer didn't start out meaning to write this
book. She simply noticed, enjoyed, and recorded the “little things”
in life -, flannel sheets, ice cream sandwiches, sun burning off the
morning fog. She often jotted down her observations on receipts,
napkins, or whatever piece of scrap-paper happened to be available at
the time. And yet, her impressive compilation of “happy thoughts”
has become beloved by thousands of Americans -it's message of
“enjoying the little things” incorporated into various
mental-health therapeutic approaches.
On a more personal
note, in college, I was able to room with one of my best friends who
was then -and is now- an inspiration to me on this topic. Every
night, no matter how tired, now matter how late the hour, she would
write down five “things to be happy about” from that day. Given
her depression and struggle with other health problems, this wasn't
always such an easy a task. And yet, she persevered. Years of
experience with medications, physicians, counselors and various
treatments, and she had come to the conclusion that this one simple
exercise was perhaps the most powerful treatment of them all.
So try
noticing life. Slow down. Make
time for the important things. Take time for the little things. Stop.
Smell. Enjoy life's roses.
