Slow It Down.

I am sitting on my porch as I type this.  It's unseasonably chilly for June; if I wasn't surrounded by my newly purchased tomato plants or able to see the bright green leaves of my next door neighbor's tree, you could easily have me guessing it was October thanks to the briskness in the air.

This week, nay, the past three weeks have been absolutely brutal at my work place.  We are in the middle of strategy planning with impossible powerpoints to fill out and metrics to process and understand, all of which lead to an eventual presentation given to various stakeholders throughout the company.  Seeing as I am still very much under the water learning the titles within my new "expanded" role it is an understatement to say that I've been feeling, well, overwhelmed.

When I worked in New York, my boss made a point of leaving the office at 5:30pm on the dot, every night.  (Except for Thursday which was her scheduled stay until 7pm and catch up undisturbed night.)  In most corporate environments and a lot of cities - particularly New York - I doubt you would find many executives adhering to the "normal" workday that my manager did.  I complimented her on it during one of the rare moments we had a conversation, saying I was impressed that she managed to juggle the job - no easy feat as a President of arguably the most famous magazine publisher in the world - and her home and family life.  She shrugged and nodded.  "You have to decide to make it a priority," she told me.  "I decided long ago that it was.  The trick is sticking to it."

That advice, along with a few other key tidbits of information she shared - always quickly, always in passing - have stuck with me throughout my career.  I promised myself several years ago that I would not confuse my life and my work.  Too busy making a living to make a life; no one wishes for more time at the office on their death bed, etcetera and so forth.

Lately though, I have not been following my own rules.  In fact, just minutes before I pulled open this laptop of mine and started typing this post, I was pouring over data and powerpoints, doing my best to sort out where my products were tracking year over year percentage wise.  I have been tired all week, I'm fighting a cold, and yesterday evening I was positively brusque to a librarian who rubbed me the wrong way when I stopped in to pick up a book I'd put on hold. (To be fair, he was a bit of a snob.)  Still, that sort of stuff usually rolls right off my back, not bothering me for a minute.  As I walked home last night though I began to realize the amount of stress I am carrying around with me nonstop as of late, how it seems my on/off switch for work related matters doesn't seem to entirely switch off when I step outside of the brick office walls I spend so many waking hours surrounded by. 

Earlier this week, one of my favorite bloggers posted about slow parenting.  She discussed the notion of being aware, of making time to take time, to stop the endless and sometimes senseless rushing here and there and everywhere and instead to take time to enjoy the ride.

After all the journey is what this crazy world is all about, right? 

While I don't have children of my own, her essay did strike a chord and I began to think about challenging myself to think about slow living.  Not slow in a bad way, naturally, but slow in a let's not miss the best - the simplest - things around us because we're too busy hurrying or worrying(!) about the next item on the agenda or that never ending to do list.

It's well known among my friends and family that relaxing for relaxing's sake is not always my strongest suit.  I wish I could just "chill" and "veg out" easier than I do sometimes, but I like to think of myself as a work in progress.  Just minutes ago I happened to look up from my paperwork and notice - really pay attention - to the sky.  Our perfect crystal blue sky, that sharp golden setting sun and an airplane flying far enough above that all I could see was its bright white jet stream.  

This, Kelli.  Look up.  Pay Attention.  Slow Down.  Stop Rushing.

For the powerpoints will come and go, as will the spreadsheets.  I'll run through my deck tomorrow with my manager, she will offer suggestions, I'll tweak.  And so it will go until this presentation is over and it's on to the next work related task.  Round and round and round, the end.  Of course, I'm not advocating that we all aim to live life as slothfully as possible or that hard work doesn't matter.  (Because I firmly believe that it does.)  But the end result, the point of all that hard work and diligence is to live a life that you love and appreciate.  Not one in which you're too busy, too harried to notice what a wonderful and amazing world you have managed to create for yourself.