Slowly

A poem, photograph, and a prayer featuring Young Woong Yi

One. Percent. Slower.

That’s the advice my coach gave me one day at the end of a conversation about workload, family and anxiety.

“Just move through your day 1% slower.”

Don’t rush through making breakfast. Savor the sizzle of sausage on the skillet. Take a deep breath when your toddler takes an extra thirty seconds to tug on his “fast shoes.” Don’t rush out the door to your car like you’re being chased by a bear. When the light turns green, wait just a beat before you ease onto the gas. Stop to pray—for just one minute—before each meeting.

In a world that preaches pace—Get to market faster. Be more productive. Meet your too-soon deadlines. Create more and more content—I wanted to provide an oasis of space for you to go one percent slower today.

We rarely find God in the frenetic. But you often experience God in the space to notice a breeze on your face or the way your daughter’s dimple gathers in her cheek.

Below you’ll find a poem, a photograph, and a prayer.

The poem was composed by me, but the photo and prayer are written by my friend Young Woong Yi. He writes an amazing Substack called Becoming Dust, and his weekly prayers and art have helped me move one percent slower on many a week. He’s a great one to subscribe to if you need to breathe and pray more often than you find yourself doing.

I hope that right now, in this moment, you can take a breath and tell yourself that you do in fact have the two extra minutes it will take to savor—rather than speed through—these pieces.

Slowly: A Poem

Work two jobs. 
Raise two kids. 
Pay two times the mortgage your parents did
Plus childcare. 
Society demands speed, 
Supplies caffeine, 
blue lights to keep us buzzing.

A small, glowing rectangle 
foments discontent 
desire for more 
stuff, stimulation, content, creation. 
We're racing 
Past imagination
Past piggy backs toward productivity hacks.
Past devotion on the way to promotions
that mean so little in the end. 
The End. 
If only we had more time before 
The End.

Slowly
like sunrise over my neighbor's shingles 
it dawns on me that bonds 
cannot be forged at scale.
Only one
Dinner
Table
Conversation
at a time. 

My wife's day is no podcast
to be heard at 1.7x speed. 
My kids need my eyes 
to linger patiently on their picture
slowly turning brown as watercolors bleed.
My friendships need feasts and
the history of small things lived together through time.
 
My soul needs quiet
space 


where no face but Yours requires my gaze.
Space 


for synapses to play like children 
slapping paint on paper to reveal surprising patterns. 
Space


to remember it's okay to exist. 
To be 
like a rock or tree 
That glorifies You just by taking up
space
slowly. 

A Photograph

Photo by Young Woong Yi

A Prayer

Jesus of Nazareth,

We live in a time
where the mantra of
“Move fast, break things”
teaches us that we are limitless.
That humanity and creation
is at our disposal for our own doing
and wanting.
But You, O Lord, do not move at such a pace.
You move slow.
Steady.
Intentionally.
You teach us,
“Move slow, heal things.”
“Move intentionally, heal people.”
Teach us, today, O Lord, the skill of slowness.
Give us eyes to see the details
of life unraveling before us.
So we too can show up well, as You do.

Amen.