STOP & SMELL THE ROSES / SEPT. 30,2008 =)

Today, I woke up to a perfect, perfect start. The Hubby laid beside me, still asleep, lightly breathing down my neck as he hugged me. Buster J--who in the middle of the night asked to come up onto the bed--slowly got up from his sleep, stretched front, then back, before carefully ambling towards me on the other side and promptly rested his face in the crook of my arm. I laid still, eyes open, as Buster gently licked my face.

It was a scene straight out of a good-morning-milk-commercial-opening-frame.

Then, the blasted alarm clock rang. It was time to get up. Time to get ready.

I got to the office, and started my usual routine. I turned on my laptop and measured the number of coffee scoops I would be needing for the day. I entered my password and as my laptop was working itself up, I walked over to the water dispenser and filled my coffee carafe with cold water.

I got back in time to see my personal screen now up (perfect!) and clicked on the Outlook button for my office e-mail inbox, and clicked on the internet explorer button four times. As I was waiting for all five windows to go up, I poured the cold water onto the brewer and clicked on the coffeemaker's power button.

As my coffee was brewing, I checked on the internet explorer pages. On the first, I clicked on to activate my yahoo mail. On the second, I clicked onto the Inquirer website. On the third, I clicked onto the pep website. On the fourth, I clicked onto multiply. This would allow me to check the info on one site as I waited for the others to download. Later on, after going through the first four, I would run down my Favorites list and click on the others.

As I was waiting for all four sites to go up (and as my office inbox downloaded all the mails I need to read), I would place one teaspoon of brown sugar and one packet of creamer onto my cup.

Soon after I finished all these, the coffeemaker would finish its brewing, and the carafe would be filled with dark, aromatic liquid.

All these done in no more than 10 minutes. No time wasted. Woopee! =D

Then, I sat down, cup of coffee in hand. As I sipped, I activated the Inquirer website, ran down the headlines and found this.

Read.

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DO YOU HAVE THE HURRIED WOMAN SYNDROME?
By Margie David Collins
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 21:09:00 09/29/2008

MANILA, Philippines—In recent butt-clenching days, we have seen the humbling of masters of the universe on Wall Street, the deracination of venerable banking institutions, the transfer of unspeakable sums of money around the world to stave off financial Armageddon— all in warp-speed nanoseconds.“We should take a few days off and do nothing, try and make sense of it,” said a pinstriped colossus.The law of unintended consequences strikes again. The financial meltdown will reverberate for years, but has already ushered in a new age of austerity, freighted with anxiety about the way we live, our acquisitive lifestyles lived in fast-forward.

As we wrestle with these, we might find ourselves slowing down, connecting with others in ways we haven’t done, being kind and gentle. Even God, who created us in record time, rested on the seventh day.But we are what we are, it’s said, for on the eighth day, He lost interest and we have been running fast ever since.

Jet-Speed Lives

The think tank OTX found that typical urbanites cram into 24 hours what would have taken 31 hours to do a decade ago. Time-saving gadgets have given rise to multitasking: watching TV while surfing the net, e-mailing or texting friends and holding a conversation. And still we want more things to do, go faster: broadband, DVD players, IMs, e-mails, BlackBerry, iPhones, games consoles. Brain overloaded, you have to feel pixelated.

“Speed has become an addiction. Falling behind at work? Get a quicker Internet connection. No time for that novel you were given at Christmas? Learn to speed read. Diet not working? Try liposuction. Too busy to cook? Get a microwave. Trouble getting a date? Try speed-dating,” said Carl Honore, high priest of fast-growing Slow Movement, who has taken a stand against the cult of speed, to prove that slow is better.

“Our obsession with going fast and saving time leads to road rage, office rage. Thanks to speed, we live in the age of rage.”

Neuroscience studies suggest the human brain is not a great multitasking organ: To do a task well, it needs focus, not a pile-up of distractions. But with new, fast technology encroaching upon the quotidian, distraction has become a fact of life, part of the human condition.

Studies have found that many of us are suffering from continued partially interrupted state, an inability to focus, reflect and process tasks and information. Sucked into the vortex of speed and haste, we have also lost the ability to enjoy the simple things in life. We killed joy.

Heavy Cost

We have become wretched, burnt-out slaves to time. Our breakneck pace in a “roadrunner culture” is extorting a heavy human cost. Some turn to drink, others to drugs, food, work—addictions that anesthetize fracture and pain.

At 26 years old, Kamei Shuji died of karoshi—death by overwork. He worked 90-hour weeks during Japan’s stock market boom; when the market crashed, he put in even longer hours.

Women who try to do too many things at once—juggling work with hectic home life—complain of chronic stress, tiredness, weight gain, sleep problems, guilt, knackered self-esteem.They suffer, according to Dr. Brent Bost, from hurried woman syndrome. No guessing their offspring, pulled from one relentless activity to another, suffer from hurried child syndrome.

If you can scarf a burger lunch in under 10 minutes, nothing is sacred. A recent study shows that an average adult devotes half an hour a week to making love; one estimate puts 75 percent of men reaching climax within 2 minutes of penetration.Speed kills romance, relationships, your heart. Slow down.

In 1986, Carlo Petrini, a foodie from Bra in Italy, took umbrage when a McDonalds opened at the foot of the Spanish Steps in Rome. Pazza! In the land of dolce vita! He founded Slow Food to promote food that is cultivated, cooked and consumed at a civilized pace.

“Being slow means you control the rhythms of your life,” he said. Like-minded souls in hundreds of countries have heeded his call. Today we have similar movements—Take Back Your Time, Slow Travel, Slow Sex, Slow Cities—addressing time famine and poverty, and time sickness, which is the same thing as sickness of the soul.

“It’s not about doing things at a snail’s pace; it’s savoring the hours and minutes rather than counting them, doing everything as well as possible, instead of as fast as possible,” said Honore, who wrote “In Praise of Slow.”

Pleasures That Last

Andante—like two lovers’ first slow dance. Smelling the sweetness of flowers in the air after a cloudburst. The ecclesiastical glow of an evening, drinking the last of the summer wine. Listening to a tender hush, the peal of church bells, the beating of a tranquil heart. As the day departs, a hymn of thanks for pleasures that last. Standing still, watching Vermeer clouds float past the sky. Lingering. Doing nothing. In the here and now, not hurrying toward a fast-receding future.

“By going slow you might achieve less, but you will achieve better. So much of modern life is about getting the job done rather than doing it well,” said Satish Kumar, a former Jain monk.

No longer disconcerted that time is hurtling by without us, slow is resolutely gaining ground. Urban warriors seek work-life balance by reducing hours of work or working from home. Deleting unread e-mails. Leaving gaps of time in diaries. Downshifting from a life of hurry to a life of slow, connecting with people we love, rediscovering our place and meaning in the universe.Taking a gap year out of the treadmill to regain humor and perspective, far from clamorous company, madding crowds, the din of a thunderous clock. Away from the tyranny of “to-do” lists. Learning to say “no.” Taming brute nature with kindness. Soothing a bruised spirit with Zen. Breathing easy, living serenely.

“A poor life this, if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare,” wrote the poet WH Davies. So, let the hours fly. Unplug. Save yourself. Slow down.

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Quite ironically, after reading this, what exactly did I do? I opened up another window and started blogging. Ack!

MUST.

SLOW.

DOWN.

=(