Slow is Fast

Moving towards your goals more gently…

Those of you who, like me, have experienced chronic fatigue, may have come across the push-and-crash cycle. Anyone with a chronic illness will relate. You feel a little better with a hint of energy and you get carried away by pushing yourself to complete a task, attend a party, or go another mile. You feel fine at the time, exhilarated and free. Perhaps, you think, I am magically well and can do whatever I want. The next day, however, you crash. Your energy plummets and you head to bed defeated and frustrated. The ‘push’ startles the nervous system, and what follows is a withdrawal and retreat until your body is sure you are safe. It is a punishing cycle, one that took me years to accept. I did not want to admit that I was a fragile person who needed to go slow.

Now, not everyone who reads this will be as sensitive as I am. My particular circumstances mean I need to be extremely gentle with myself and promote a feeling of safety above all else. For me, the consequences of doing otherwise are illness and depression. You may be a resilient renegade who can take on any challenge, and I wave you onward, friend. Today, though, I talk to the person who doesn’t know how to stop, the person who wants to prove themselves, the person who wants to change but doesn’t know how and who has ‘failed’ in the past, the person whose self-confidence is low. To this person, I say, start small. I want you to succeed. I want you to take steps so insignificant that they hardly register. I want you to make a one-degree change today so that in 180 days you are facing the opposite direction, towards the life of your dreams.

Learning to do less is extremely difficult. There are big dreams and bigger expectations. There is a whole world to see and a life to live to the fullest. It feels counterintuitive to hold back and stay small. But sometimes, that’s what we need. Often, we have been pushing our bodies for years without realising the toll it has taken. When the body says no, we have to listen. But boy oh boy, is it hard to change.

There is a pushing energy I experience often and I bet I’m not alone. This is the part of you that wants you to get the housework done so you feel like you are a good wife, the part that wants you to get a PhD because the title brings you approval, the part that wants you to hit the gym even though you are exhausted because you want to be seen as beautiful. It is not wrong. But in our modern world, it holds sway too often and is applauded rather than moderated with compassion. When we are fighting fit, this energy can help us achieve amazing things. When we are in need of recovery or rest, this same energy can make us feel helpless and ashamed.

Even if we are physically well, the perceived route out of unhappiness is, commonly, drastic action. There are times when this is called for, when enough is enough, when momentum drives a person to the kind of radical change that sticks. Often, however, we fall back into old patterns, neural pathways and habits that have been wired and woven for years and which are resistant to change. The alternative is to make small, consistent steps in the direction you desire. Taking on life, one small piece at a time, is manageable and actionable today. I know from experience that it is a false economy to jump off a cliff, and I think you’ll be surprised how much quicker you progress if you are gentle yet steadfast.

My personal fitness journey is a good example of how slow and steady won the race. For two years I was out for the count with CFS and exercise was out of the question. When I started to get a little more energy, I signed up with a personal trainer. The sessions were fine, until they weren’t. During my fifth session, I completely collapsed and could barely walk home. My body did not trust me to work so hard and after that, I could not even go for a slow walk for weeks. At the beginning of this year I decided to try a new tactic. I started exercising in my own home for just 5 minutes every morning. Even though I knew I could go for longer and part of me felt pathetic for setting my goal so low, I stuck at this for a week. For week two, I exercised for six minutes. Week three, seven minutes, and so on. These increments were so small that I felt totally capable. After a few months I was exercising for fifteen minutes every day. For someone used to a life with CFS, this was huge. And I felt so proud of myself. Not only was I exercising regularly, I was in control and I had been kind to myself. My body trusted me to continue, knowing I was not going to push too hard. Little by little builds more quickly than you’d think.

And so, pick one thing, and it doesn’t have to be a big thing. Perhaps, eating five types of vegetables on Tuesdays or taking a 10-minute walk on your lunch break. If you want to be an artist, give yourself one hour a week of creative time rather than kicking yourself every day for not pursuing your dreams. If you complete this starter challenge you will feel so good about yourself that you may be motivated to widen then net. After a month of short walks, you may feel inspired to start breathing exercise or to stretch to a 20-minute walk. Setting unlimited goals and attempting multiple changes might lead to overwhelm. Even if you successfully achieve some of your goals, the ones you didn’t stick to would knock your confidence and make you feel small. I caveat this by saying that in serious health conditions, massive change might be necessary, with no time for gradual behaviour. For the average person however, who simply wants to make positive change, be gentle.

Our society is obsessed with immediacy. If we are sick, we want a silver bullet. If we are struggling emotionally, we want to numb it and end the suffering. If we are hungry, we want to feed ourselves now, without delay and without the bother of having to actually cook what we eat. I generalise, of course, but as a society we have lost the art of patience. Lifestyle changes can be slow and arduous but they have a lot less side effects than the pills we might take to cure the same problem.

My therapist often reminds me that ‘slow is fast’ and though I curse the fact, I find it to be true. Pushing through causes contraction and an inevitable fall. I want you to make change, to take the time to better yourself. But I don’t want you to flagellate yourself by attacking the problem as an enemy and setting yourself up for disappointment. I want you to pick one small thing and stick to it and then be really proud of yourself. And even if you don’t stick to it, I want you to be proud of yourself for trying. Perhaps you don’t have the energy yet or the resilience or the time. I know too well what it is to live life in a state where the only thing you can do is exist. Self-compassion with every step.

So, dream big, but don’t push too hard. There’s enough of that type of aggression out there in the world already. Be one of the ones restoring balance, taking it easy and giving yourself grace.