What Only Slow Makes Happen

We're growing many unusual things in our garden, things like artichokes and radishes and eggplant. Every morning, barefoot and chilly, we all go to the garden to check the progress of things. The basil is growing well, and so are the tomatoes. We find little blossoms on the peppers and the cucumbers. The carrot seeds have finally sprouted across from the beans.

It's a funny concept, but we go out there to love our little garden and encourage it.

We've harvested enough strawberries to freeze two bags for winter pies. Blueberries ripen alongside the flowering blackberries and raspberries.

It's a slow kind of thing that's full of love and gentle care. Even the composted dirt is a slow kind of thing.

Slow, slow, slow.

I love the patience of it and the way I feel when I'm out in the garden. The Slow Food Movement agrees, and I'm having a good time learning all about it. I want slowness to seep into other areas of my life because if you know me, I'm the exact opposite of slow! There's no slow in me at all! Well, maybe there's some.

I've been a proponent of Slow Parenting (I didn't know that was a real thing) for all these years, and I learn today that in addition to Slow Food and Parenting, you can have Slow Church, Slow Art, and all sorts of other Slow Things. It's all about slowing down one's pace to savor. It's about relationships and community and not over-scheduling.  It's about natural processes and having the time and space to let God work. You can't rush God, and you don't want to. It's about loving well because you have the time and space to let things unfold.

Most of the beautiful things happening in my life come from slow things. The walk-to-school community, for example, has wasted thousands upon thousands of hours when we might have just dropped off children from our minivans. Instead, we've savored our friendships and our neighborhood because we took some time for a slow walk to gather up all the children. On that slow walk, we talk and talk. We laugh and observe.

We grow in ways that only slow can make happen.