Thoughts on the Pace of Life

A few weeks ago, I was driving through a large city, and the contrast was so great compared to the roads I typically drive, I had a rant about it in my diary later on:

…I think I’ve hit upon a fact. When you’re driving quieter roads, you can pay attention to people. You notice drivers, and feel a kinship if you follow someone for a while. You wave on the quieter roads, you notice people, even in town. In the city, it’s looking out for yourself; survival of the fittest. You just make sure you’re going where you want to go. You can’t befriend the cars in the rear-vision mirror – you don’t have time to notice. You can’t get a glimpse of driver’s faces – it’s divided road. You’ve just got to do what you’ve got to do to make it through. That’s the thought pervading everywhere. It’s tiring. It’s existing, not living. And I guess that’s why the open roads and country towns are my favourite. The pace allows for breathing, observing, and soaking in life, and the beauty of it all.

We want fast paced – fast cars, better roads; faster internet, better computers; faster food, faster entertainment. But speed doesn’t equal happiness, contentment, or security. Fast is a lonely place, a place of competition and hollow striving – a place where we’re running so fast we don’t have time to get to know others, so we judge.

…Have you ever wondered why we speak of a ‘walk with God’? I mean, have you heard someone inquire, “How’s your run with God?” Think – can you hold hands when you’re running, sprinting, dashing? No, you’ve got to put all your energies into gaining speed, maintaining balance, and conserving energy. But how about a walk? You can hold hands, you can admire the clouds, and flowers, and how tall the trees grow… We were made to walk.

My siblings (who are trying to start a fire in the photo above) and I camped on the back of the ute the other night for my brother's birthday. We drove up to the saddle between some hills at the back of our place, and parked on the flattest ground we could find. My brother got a fire going, and we sat around it watching the flames and sparks, throwing more logs on, playing with sparklers, listening to music, and talking. The moon was so bright we barely needed torches. We arranged our sleeping bags, blankets and doonas (it is winter here, after all) on the back of the ute, under the plastic my brother put over it to keep us (mostly) dry for the night. It was cozy, and warm. We woke up to the sun rising through the fog - one of my favourite scenes. We relit the fire, and sat around it warming our cold fingers,  reading Psalm 140, and thinking about how David could've been sitting around a campfire in the bush when he wrote that psalm.

I wonder how many people have experienced life at that pace? I wonder how many people know what it's like to go out in nature and pause and listen, even for just a few minutes? I wonder how many people know how refreshing it is to slow down? 

It's like everything else - there needs to be a balance between exciting, fast days, and quiet moments. It's just finding that balance that's the hardest thing. We need to be energetic, but not rush along so fast that we miss out on the beauty around us. After all, God does say “Be still, and know me.” 

Anyway, that's my thoughts on the pace of life. I feel like I've just blabbed on though, so tell me: what are your thoughts on the pace of life? And do you prefer city or country driving? What do you think about a walk vs run relationship with God? How do you make time for quiet moments?