Slowing Down Amongst the Holiday Chaos

As someone whose business purpose and ideal way of moving about life is with a mindset of "slow living," I immediately bought Rachel Schwartzmann's book "Slowing" when it was released. Aside from the beauty of the book itself and the precision with which Rachel chooses her words (through taking time and working with purpose, I'm sure), she captures exactly how I envision living my life.

Coincidentally, in the book she interviews Virginia Sin, founder of the ceramic company SIN (and whose work can be found in several rooms in my home). In the interview, Virginia talks about the actual ceramic process and how it is truly all about timing. "This is a good metaphor for life: When do you join these two pieces together? At what state? ... Ceramics teaches you patience. It forces you to be more mindful of the time and the appropriate time for a specific process."

This quote made me think of the various times late at night when my husband heads up to bed, expecting me to join him, for me to say "I'll come up soon, I promise! I have to cover up some pots, I have to attach some handles. Do I really need to now? Yes! By tomorrow evening (when I get home from my full time job), it will be too late." This illustrates both an awareness of time, display of patience, but also a feeling of rush and impatience. How antithetical. How can all of these things happen at once? Taking the time, but then, BAM! Must do it now. Maybe this is of my own making. And don't get me started on the holiday rush. How frustrating it can be to be rushing to make a large quantity of pieces in this slow and mindful form of work. It usually takes around two weeks from start to finish of a piece- if everything goes well. Ceramics has taught me patience, humility, slowing down, and timing.

I am going to carry this with me this holiday season. Yes, there will inevitably be the craziness, the rush, the chaos. That is why it is even more important to take the moments that you can- even if that means making them for yourself. Wake up before or stay awake just that little bit after everyone else. Have a cup of coffee in your favorite mug. Sit with a blanket on your couch, at your table, or some place that you can just be without thinking of all the things to be done. Don't position yourself at the kitchen table if you can see those dirty dishes. Don't sit on the couch where you start thinking of all the decorations you need to put up and take down.

Slow looks and feels different for everyone. In her book, Rachel illustrates a few of these instances that resonate with me. She says that to her, "Slow tastes like the little things- lukewarm coffee... Slow looks like light- flares, streaks, speckles." When I think of slow, that is it. Sitting with my coffee at my kitchen table, streaks of sunlight flitting on the table and traveling up the walls. Maybe eventually hearing little footsteps upstairs as my children wake up.

I'll end with one more quote (I really love a good quote). Rachel describes winter as a "whisper" and acknowledges that it can be a hard season. I know it is for me. Finding small moments of joy has been a tremendous help to me. She explains that, "while matters of aesthetics can seem trivial, reclaiming simple functions like getting dressed offers new ways of thinking about everyday magic." So grab something that really makes you happy- maybe for a reason you can't explain. A mug, a sweater, a blanket, a notebook. Don't question what it is about it that brings you peace, just let it.