Writing with Rox WEEKLY—Way of the Peaceful Writer

"The inability to keep up, combined with the inability to slow down, and feeling inadequate either way -- that's the Millennium, baby."

And speaking of time and where I've been, does this resonate as much with you as it does with me? But more on the brilliant Michael Ventura in a moment.

When I was about 15, my best friend Kenny lent me his new copy of Dan Millman's Way of the Peaceful Warrior, which, as promised, did change my life, perhaps the first masked self-help book I ever read, declaring itself on the front cover to be "a book that changes lives." Glancing Millman's webpage today makes this point glaringly obvious. 

Then again, as I write this, I realize that's what most memoirs are: self-help in disguise. Heck, most everything written ever could be viewed as such—for better or for worse; isn't everyone vying for a spot to change someone's life? To be seen and heard and taken seriously enough to have a meaningful impact on another?

Now, 30 years later, comes along the movie, that also guarantees to "change lives," which I refused to see until recently, well knowing it would only change my life for the worse. Well. Let's just say it wasn't as good as the book (duh), but it didn't entirely suck either, likely because it had one of my old heartthrobs in it (no, not Scott Mechlowicz). 

I don't remember much about the Hollywood interpretation of this magnificent book, and in all fairness, it's hard to translate one's inner journey to the screen without putting your typical Hollywood, movie-goer (adrenaline, drama, thrill-seeking) to sleep. But, what does stand out is the scene where Nick Nolte (older guru type) points out to Scott Mechlowicz (young Dan, egomaniacal, thrill seeking, hot young college type) that there is "a lot going on" all the time if you choose to wake up and notice it. Apparently, young Dan is disgruntled with his young life, complains that he is bored, ("There's nothing going on!") which is a spiritual assault to his older, wiser new Buddha friend. 

The camera (ah, the camera!) then goes into slo, slo, triple slo-mo and pans across the perfect Berkley campus landscape, pausing to zoom right in and illustrate all the "goings ons," both internal and external: Students necking. A ladybug crawling on a leaf. A man studying a text book. The clouds. Friends laughing. Jovial hacky-sacing. A long, flat, cloud striped sky. The shining sun. Someone in deep thought. A Golden Retriever mid-air, catching a frisbee. A furrowed brow. A screaming toddler. Blood pumping through veins. Motorcycle reving.

There's a lot going on. All the time.

Of course this led me to write about the inchworm that Jude spotted (those youthful eyes!) on the way home from the bus stop a couple weeks ago, inviting us to stoop down and squat ourselves on the summer sidewalk and do nothing but devote ourselves fully and entirely to watching this keylime green half-inch inchworm expand and contract across the concrete en serious route to the lawn. Of course this led immediately to a craving to blow bubbles, those huge ones that roll down big green hills in their own time, an excuse to stop and watch, give myself fully to the pace of sanity.   

I gave as much time as I had, never enough, to the whole debacle of wanting to slow down, caught between the sweet allure of slowing down, mindfulness, not being bullied into rushing and the reality of the pace outside my window. All of this led me back to one of my favorite articles of all time, wherein lies one of the best quotes I ever read that sums all of it up—everything there ever was or is about anything—perfectly so why bother writing any of it? 

And it is this, what Michael Ventura says so much more eloquently in his article "Millenial Nudity": 

 "'Am I going too fast for you?'" is now a common phrase. People and nanoseconds going too fast for you -- that's the Millennium. Trying to keep up with people going too fast for you is also the Millennium. The inability to slow down is the Millennium. The inability to keep up, combined with the inability to slow down, and feeling inadequate either way -- that's the Millennium, baby."

In the meantime, I'll be slowing waaaay down up North for a while. I'll be back; I always am. In fact, I'm never really gone now am I? 

Happy summer everyone! Hope to write with you again real soon and please, please, don't forget to write!!!

What do you do to slow down?  

What slows you down? 

What is your relationship to slowing down?