Fast-Forward

As a kid I used to read the last pages of a book before starting the first chapter. I just had to know how it all ended. As a teenager I dreamed of a magic remote control. One that would teleport me to better times. In fact, two very distinct moments in time: I immediately wanted to turn 18 … or 30. 18 – because noone would ever tell me what to do again. 30 – because people at that age did not have any problems left. They had all their shit worked out, knew how to live, how to love, how to „human“. So I assumed.

When I turned 18, I was still living at home, going to school and had just crashed my parents‘ car on the very day I earned my driver’s license. So turning 30 was all I had left… On my thirtiest birthday, I was more single than ever surrounded by people who were about to get married, I was doubting every single one of my moves and my skin looked pretty much as spotty as when I was thirteen.

For as long as I can remember I wanted to skip right to the good stuff, fast forward through all of the pain. I was living my life on the fast lane.

I once had a guitar teacher who told me after I had rushed through a serenade: „If you got it, you can play it slowly.“ (To quote him correctly in German: „Wenn man es kann, kann man es auch langsam spielen.“) I absolutely did not get what he was refering to back then. How can it be harder to play a song more slowly? Wasn’t it much more virtuoso to play it fast, showing how well you memorized all the moves, barely having time to look at the sheet of music?

After all these years, I suddenly remembered his words. Maybe it’s because I just took two months off from work. Maybe it’s because I have sworn off social media for the most part. Or maybe it’s just a freaking coincidence. But I think I get it now.

I dare to say at my age noone is desperately longing to get older 😉 Nobody goes like: „Pretty please, let the kids turn 18 today, so my days will no longer be that hard.“ Or: „Please let me turn 60 today, life will be so much better then.“ We don’t do that. However, many of us are still speeding through life, playing it like a video game, always trying to get to the next level.

Our society tends to celebrate those who work long hours, check off everything on their bucket lists by the time they turn 40 or multitask the crap out of each day (pardon my French…). Yes, on a bike, speed is your friend. The faster you move, the more stable you are. I learned this the hard way the few times I went mountainbiking with my dad.

In life, fast-forwarding makes us feel like we’ve got everything under control … while we are missing all the exits. While we are often no longer in touch with what we truly feel. While we are trapped in a hamster wheel without even noticing. What the hell are we running from? Or where to? A time and place where being human no longer feels difficult?

What about you? Is there any part of your life you are rushing through right now? Any moment in the future you are trying to get to as fast as you can? The weekend? The next holidays? What does this tell you about the status quo you are living in? What will happen once the weekend or the holidays are over? Will you feel trapped until the next one? Are you still able to spot occasions in your daily life to dial down the pace, to be inefficient on purpose for once? And zooming out: What makes this phase of your life really special?

Fast-forwarding is not hard. Slowing down is. Taking in all our emotions. Listening to every scratchy tone. Taking detours. Asking what if.

In this very moment as I am writing this post, I have to say that I truly and utterly feel at peace with where I am. I wouldn’t want to skip a beat. I really hope I can hold on to this feeling for a while. 

Here’s to finding serenity in our everyday mess instead of rushing to our next vacation trying to make up for all the energy lost on the way. Here’s to listening to our emotional pain with curiosity, it is telling us something meaningful. Here’s to standing still once in a while, just to see what happens.

Here’s to humaning in slow-motion.

Lots of love,

Tanja

This text was originally published in my thought-letter Tanja’s Butterflies (August Edition 2021 – Part 2). In case you are interested in future editions, feel free to sign up here.