What Pemberley Walks Have Shown Me About Slow Living
“I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when one has a motive.”
— Lizzie Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
Some of literature’s greatest heroes and heroines have a simple thing in common: they all walk. Frodo, Lizzie Bennet, Jane Eyre, and many, many others.* Back in the olden days before technological dopamine hits and the “Keep Watching?” autoplay feature on Netflix, people actually walked around the places they lived. As a society, we had to use our legs to move us from places beyond the walls of our abodes, and sometimes, we actually enjoyed it.
Now, this isn’t a commentary on suburban sprawl and all of its subsequent ramifications (although it is an interesting thing I talk about with my husband); rather, I seek to understand why we don’t walk for the sake of it anymore. Or at least, why most of us have dropped that ball.
Healthy habits, woohoo.
We’ve all studied technological developments during school. The cotton gin (a name I will never forget but always found funny), the steam engine, and cars. All important things, yes, but
Enter the Apple Watch.
“C’mon, Christina, you can close your rings by taking a brisk, 30-minute walk!” I’d received that haptic notification on my wrist nearly every day. Being bundled on the couch with a cup of chamomile, though, I did nothing about it.
That is, until a few weeks ago. In the spirit of embracing feasible resolutions, one literal step at a time, I started walking around my neighborhood each day, determined to close my dogged Apple Watch rings (for those who don’t know what on Earth I’m referring to, this smart watch encourages users to hit a certain threshold of movement, exercise, and standing each day. Somehow, standing can be the hardest!)
A snapshot of my Apple Watch on a particularly active day (okay, okay, we were in Madrid for our honeymoon!)
What started as a stubborn quest turned into a part of my day that I actually looked forward to.
At least internally, I’ve called them Pemberley walks, hearkening back to my love for Pride and Prejudice. Fresh air, a clear mind, one foot in front of the other. Some days, my husband joins me as I do my daily loop. Other days, willing myself to close my ring — even during busy days — I bring others in on my shenanigans. Ask me about the time I got 10 people to walk loops around my church’s prayer garden after a retreat ended!
We could talk about walking’s health benefits — of which there are many — but I want to call your attention to another realm: slowing down.
Purposeful slowness
“Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry.”
— Henry David Thoreau
As I sit here and reflect on this health venture, I realize I’ve discovered something far deeper we may be missing as a society: the opportunity to slow down. Physically moving out of my house and going out into nature, I’ve come to enjoy the ambient sounds of existence. The hum of nature; tree branches rustling above me, mid-afternoon light shimmering on the sidewalk ahead of me. Children laughing at the community playground, the occasional whoosh of a bird swooping overhead…although, to be honest, I do duck when I see those larger birds coming! If I’m lucky, I get to walk over some crunchy fallen leaves (now that we’re in Florida winter, leaves have actually fallen!)
It’s nothing fancy; I’m a suburban girl in a very suburban world. Going outside and walking has given me space to ponder and pray, not worried about the next Teams message on my work laptop or the lingering chores that need to be done around my home. I’ll be back; I can address them soon. But for now, I walk.
This deliberate choice to go out and stop worrying about what’s next truly brought about a perspective shift that I’ve been praying with for quite some time, without even realizing it.
Hurry ruins saints.
“At this point in my life, I’m just trying to not miss the goodness of each day, and bring my best self to it.”
— John Mark Comer, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry
Walking, of all things, has taught me slowness. Each day is a gift and is meant to be treated as such. If you’re rushing through your tasks, and going through the motions to get everything done, you might just miss out on the beauty of the quiet moments. As a recovering productivity person, it’s taken me some time to grasp, but the Lord has been patient with this lesson He’s teaching me.
C.S. Lewis’s spiritual director, Walter Adams, once said, “To walk with Jesus is to walk with a slow, unhurried pace. Hurry is the death of prayer and only impedes and spoils our work. It never advances it.” I encourage you to take that time in slowing down and being present with your loved ones and the Lord. Good fruit takes time.
Here’s to walking, and here’s to taking it slow. This life’s an adventure; why rush through it?
* Funny how they’re all from the UK. Now that’s even more food for thought!