Like many, I am especially interested in how we might practice the presence of the Open and Relational God. One way, I believe, is by practicing slowness: understood as deep listening and loving response to the world in an unhurried way, combined with a recognition that the very heart of the universe, God, is Slow, too. Not "slow" as backward but "slow" as infinitely patient.  There is so much more to life than speed and efficiency.  Slow is Beautiful.  (Jay McDaniel, July 27, 2021)

Practicing Slowness: Walking
with the Patient Side of God
​
Practicing slowness is like listening to the sound of snow falling.
It is to listen, to be kind, to enjoy beauty, to be unhurried,
to dance slowly in the light of divine love,
in order to help mend a broken world.
​

Sometimes I lose touch with my slow God.  The very One in whose light I'd like to walk day by day, moment by moment.  I am too hurried, too impatient, too caught up with the idea that salvation comes through moving on to the next thing, whatever the "next thing" is.  A good friend, age 96, wants to visit, but she speaks too slowly and seems to be talking in circles.  I don't have time for her.  She wants to slow dance and I want to move on, because we don't seem to be "going" anywhere.  Yes, I lose touch with my slow God.  

I think of my slow God when I read the philosopher Whitehead speaking of God's infinite patience.  He writes: "He does not create the world, he saves it: or, more accurately, he is the poet of the world, with tender patience leading it by his vision of truth, beauty, and goodness....Another image which is also required to understand his consequent nature is his infinite patience." 

​The consequent nature of God is not God hurtling through space in a car chase, or even stopping at a red light awaiting a green light; it is God responding to the world, moment by moment, with slow kindness and with love.  The quality of this kindness is what I mean by God's slowness.  God's slowness is God's non-hurried love, God's infinite patience.
 
For us and I suspect for God, patience isn't just putting on the brakes of mental or physical activity; it's delighting in the slow: the slowness of a gently falling rain, for example, or the slowness of a really great movie.  It takes a special maturity to delight in the slow.  You walk slowly, you drive slowly, you enjoy the refreshment of the slow.

Without slowness there cannot be kindness.  Harold Koenig writes: "Kindness is not rushed, irritated, impatient, or bossy. Kindness does not communicate to the receiver that the giver is being put out or imposed upon. This neutralizes the effects of kindness, both for the giver and receiver. However, kindness doesn't always have to take a lot of time. What is important is the attitude and demeanor of the giver." *

Practicing slowness isn't one the most radical acts we can undertake in our time.  Perhaps the true progressives are slow, and that's what makes them progressive.  They can slow dance with God; they can be kind; they can walk softly in the rain.  They are counter-cultural in the best of ways.

How to practice slowness?  To practice slowness is to prehend, to feel, other people when they are talking with us, listening with our hearts as well as our ears, with a willingess to be touched.  It is to listen to the more than human world: the hills and rivers, the trees and stars.  It is to listen to the still small voice of God in the heart: the inner call to wisdom, compassion, and creativity, to truth and goodness and beauty.  In actions such as these, when coming from the heart, we know the slow God.  In the beginning is the slowness, and it is with God and it is God.

​* quoted in Spirituality and Practice: 

​The Power of Slow: Finding Balance and
Fulfillment Beyond the Cult of Speed

By Carl Honore

Fascinating observations and spiritual practices for those
​ who want to put on the brakes in our speed-obsessed times.

Book Review by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat
Reposted from Spirituality and Practice

We live in a culture where people salivate over fast cars, fast food, fast service, and fast talk. But this cult of 24/7 speed is catching up to us in ways that signal danger. Carl Honore is an award-winning journalist, author, and rehabilitated "speedaholic." In his international bestseller In Praise of Slowness, he traced the growth of the Slow Movement which began in Italy with Slow Food and has progressed to other aspects of contemporary living in countries around the world.

In this three-CD program which runs three hours, Honore presents a potpourri of fascinating observations and spiritual practices for those who want to "put on the brakes." We were especially impressed with his comments on a speed audit, finding your slow mantra, the lost art of slow lovemaking, the problem with hyper-parenting, helping children connect with their inner tortoise, bringing Slow into your community, finding your speed trigger, and the slow time exercise. Carl Honore succeeds in convincing us to slow down as a way of decelerating our lives.

​Manifesto for a Slow Movie Movement

Our manifesto for a return to slow movies as an
antidote to the trend of super loud violent summer blockbusters.

Film Feature by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat
​reposted from Spirituality and Practice
​

Going to the summer blockbuster movies is nothing short of torture. Usually these Hollywood-produced action dramas are filled with fast-paced plots, tons (literally) of special effects, endless chases, extended fights, and multiple explosions. You know what we're talking about.

These movies mirror our speed obsessed culture where "hurry-sickness" is a national malady. "Be fast or be last" is the name of the game, and the race is on. "Those who snooze, lose." And how can we snooze through a movie today?
There have always been action movies, but we sensed an acceleration — an addiction to speed — in the 2002 release of The Bourne Identity directed by Tony Gilmore. The storyline for that film didn't give us a chance to pause, catch our breath, or take in what we were feeling. Instead the frenetic pace hurled us along to the exciting finale.

Today the speed of movies is reaching a point of no return. Our personal and cultural restlessness seems to be driving us to hunger for this kind of excess.

Another ingredient established by The Bourne Identity is the use of a soundtrack of propulsive and percussive music to move the action along. Sitting in a theatre surrounded by this often mind-numbing sound reminds us of the CIA's use of loud and aggressive "torture music" to induce discomfort, nausea, and disorientation in suspected terrorists. Scientists have found that babies as young as four months are more likely to wince, cry, or fuss in response to dissonant sounds.
And so we are calling for a Slow Movie Movement. Just as the Slow Food Movement has advocated for an alternative to fast food by returning to cooking techniques that take time, traditional recipes that don't use shortcuts, and local food, we'd like to see movies go back to their roots in plain and simple storytelling. Cut the sensory assault!

We want to go to movies that give our eyes something to rest upon, like a beautiful scene or a touching encounter between people. We'd like to hear less adrenalin pumping music that leaves our faces wincing and our bodies shaking. We ask that theaters turn down the sound volume so that we don't suffer hearing loss from exposure to high decibels. After suffering through the abominable blockbuster Man of Steel, a new rendition of Superman, we both were so manic that we wished we had a sensory deprivation tank to lie in and regain our inner peace.

We have decided not to attend any more sensory assault movies this summer. Life is too short and too precious to bludgeon our eyes, ears, skin, hearts, and brains with these toxic films that water the seeds of violence and leave us depleted of energy to do anything else. Our senses are astonishing gifts from God and deserve to be cared for, not exposed to extremes that threaten their ability to put us in touch with the subtle wonders of life.
​
Don't get us wrong. We love movies. We are just asking that the film industry produce more slow ones. Let's have some intimate dramas where events unfold in the fullness of time: movies like The Horse Whisperer, The Straight Story, Local Hero, Strangers in Good Company, Enchanted April, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Help, and Julie and Julia. Give us movies that touch the human heart with their emphasis on the pauses and transitions in the ordinary lives of people. Life is more than speed! We will welcome with open arms more chances to experience the wonders of silence, reverence, and mystery in the local cineplex.

​Slowness

By Milan Kundera

A fascinating novel that offers a critique of speed
​and missing all the details in everyday experience.

Book Review by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat
​reposted from Spirituality and Practice
​

The ancient humanists taught us that the life of the spirit flourishes in the presence of a playful, relaxed, and carefully focused life of pleasure. Today, we have different ideas. This book is expatriot Czech writer Milan Kundera's first novel in French; it has been translated by Linda Asher. The sophisticated narrator visits a chateau-turned-hotel and yearns for the civilized pace of life unspooled in his two favorite 18th century novels — Les Liaisons dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos and Vivant Denon's Point de lendemain. "Why has the pleasure of slowness disappeared? Ah, where have they gone, the amblers of yesteryear?" asks the narrator. In their place are the hustlers of the modern day who rush through everything. Kundera calls the exhibitionists of public life "dancers." And then there are crass individuals like Vincent whose time with Julia, an alluring woman, is sped through and quickly forgotten. Kundera is convinced that a link ties slowness and memory together. In his view, pleasure can only be reinstated in our lives when we luxuriate in our senses and revel in the arts of conversation and subtle seduction.

Slowing Time

Seeing the Sacred Outside Your Kitchen Door

By Barbara Mahany

Book Review by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat
​reposted from Spirituality and Practice
​

Barbara Mahany is a former reporter and columnist for the Chicago Tribune. In this fresh and richly lyrical work, she takes us on a joy ride through the four seasons. Along the way, she tutors us in the art of everyday spirituality.

Mahany is enchanted by the depth of winter, the quickening of spring, the plenitude of summer, and the awesomeness of autumn. For each of the four seasons, she presents a wonderlist of things to be attentive to and to savor with gratitude. She also presents 14 blessings to intertwine with the rhythms of each season. Wonders abound in her field notes, several essays, and a recipe.
Here are some blessings from each season:

Winter

"Bundle up for a meandering walk in the end-of-winter woods, marvel at the survival of so many species. Marvel at your own."

Spring

"It's seesaw season, yin and yang. It's stripping off old skin, it's starting over. It's tender and it's green, beginning green. Everything feels tender all over. Even us, some days. Be kind with your tender spots — they might just be where essential truths seep in."

Summer

"There's no substitute for a summer's rain. No rinse of all the earth that so revives what dwells here. Summer's rain is balm, soothes parts of us we didn't even know were hurting. Till we hear the whoosh, or pit-a-pat. And then the healing washes over us."

Autumn

"Now's the interlude when leaves drop their drab summer-worn green for jaw-dropping amber and gold, copper and crimson. The slant of sun drops in the sky, as we twirl farther and farther away, it is all in autumn's call to attention."

Barbara Mahany calls Slowing Time "A book of wonder." And so it is. It encourages us to marvel at the world of this and that. The author keeps us alert to the parade of delights in the natural world and within our sacred homes. Her poetic prose quickens our pulses and sends us on way rejoicing.