Slow. Down.

My Aunt Bea used to tell me to slow down. She slowly said those two words as I was going out the door. Slow. Down. The fact that I stopped sleeping at her house before I turned 18 means this habit of doing everything in a rush has apparently been a part of me since I was a teenager.

There used to be a time I spent a minute or two applying my Maybelline Great Lash mascara. Seeing that the apparently excessive minute-or-two-application has been reduced to 22 seconds is proof that what was once a bad habit is now a handicap. My one-minute lashes were never long and luscious, but my 22-second ones are always lumpy.

The daily race starts with my morning tea. I don't really even like tea, but I love my tiny red teapot. I have three pots. Small, medium and large. They look cute on my kitchen shelf and I don't like to have stuff on my shelves that I don't use so I've started drinking tea. And although "Tea for Two" has a nice ring to it, "Tea for Me" suits me better, so the tiny teapot gets the most use. In the past I thought it was defective. After years of mornings of spilling hot water on the table, floor and countertop (and sometimes in the silverware drawer that I didn't have time to close) I decided to slow down to find the defect. The slow, investigative pour was the answer. No leaks. No drips. Just a nice clean pour from my favorite pot to my favorite mug. It's a quotidian pleasure that's much more pleasurable done slowly.

English lessons in the center (which my students call downtown) mean running from one square (which I call a piazza) to another. If the cobblestone streets offer a shortcut, I take it. It's the big yard (which my students call a garden) behind the old villa (which we both call a villa) that presents a problem. It has intersecting sidewalks that get you from one side to the other, but they're laid out in a square grid. Dear City Planner, what about those of us that don't have an extra minute to stay on the sidewalks? I'm not sure what's worse....an old lady running left and right and left and right to get to the other side or an old lady, head down, with an extra brisk gait cutting diagonally through the untrodden grass.

Pizza is better eaten more slowly, hot chocolate is better drunk more slowly and books are better read more slowly. If I'm aware of all of this, why can't I just slow down?

I'm hopeful things will change when I buy my next toothbrush. Last week the hygienist suggested I switch from soft to medium, with one glitch... I have to warm the bristles under hot water before each use. I laughed and said, "Do you think I have time to wait for the water to get hot before I brush my teeth?" (I probably said it as I was sitting up to spit. I consider it an abs workout and the dentist knows I don't have time for the power chair to raise and lower me.)

I have no planes to catch, no kids to feed and no timeclocks to punch, so what's the hurry? Rushing only robs your spontaneity. I wanted to leave for the mountains yesterday at 11am. I had no real reason for that hour, I just picked it. Then I got an invitation to take a walk and instead of apologizing and running out the door, I accepted and set myself a new departure time.  

Before leaving I had to deliver the last few holiday gifts in my borghetto. (Fortunately) I bumped into neighbors and enjoyed a sunny chat. Another new departure time.

It was 3:30pm when I finally put the top down and set off to deliver the final gifts on my way out of town. By that time it was too late for a sunny drive and too early for a sunset, but I was determined to leave. The first stop was the hair salon where the owner asked if I had come for a haircut. Nope, just dropping off a gift, but why not get a haircut, too?

All of the unplanned extras that I'd given myself time to enjoy meant the convertible ride to the mountains was at the perfect hour to see every tiny town along the way lit up with their own dorky (lovely) Christmas lights. So I slowed down, smiled and thought of Aunt Bea.

Every now and then you should put on your flashers....don't wait til it's an emergency. Slowing down doesn't mean your life is in neutral or you're going to stall. It means you've learned to enjoy the spectacle of everyday life.