Slow Down

Slow down. You’re moving too fast.

Actually, a lot of us are.

A lot of us are in such a hurry to get to that next meeting, to respond to that next email, to make that next dollar that we’re on the verge of spinning out of control.

Literally.

In my ongoing effort to appreciate the little things, I spent my drive to work this morning trying to tune into my surroundings.

I tried noticing the soft rays of sunshine on my windshield; and the lack of summertime traffic; and how, on this one stretch, the trees on either side of the street have arched toward each other, forming a shaded canopy for the cars that pass below them.

But sadly, what most caught my attention were the countless tire tracks that stained the freeway’s asphalt.

These marks are so common that, for me, they typically blend into the landscape. I don’t think twice about them.

Yet this morning I did.

I thought about a car actually creating them — how fast it must’ve been going, how loud the screeches must have been, how out of control it had to be to skid across three lanes before slamming into the concrete barrier.

When you put something in context, you get an entirely new perspective.

Yes, accidents happen. And they’re always going to happen, no matter how careful we are.

But operating at such breakneck speeds only increases their likelihood. And this need to slow down exceeds any spiritual kickback of stopping to smell the roses.

This is about our safety, our well-being and our ability to steer clear of that concrete barrier.

And not just on our morning commute.

*****

This originally appeared on 100 Naked Words.