I would have done my laundry today, but I was preoccupied with learning to be slow.
I have completed my first week at Proyecto ‘Ace. I feel both fast and slow living here.
Fast because the time hours quickly, because already it feels like it will not be enough. Fast because I’m used to a more hurried pace than what exists here. Sometimes I’m anxious that I’m not doing enough, not moving fast enough, though I haven’t defined what my rush is.
Slow because everything takes longer here. Slow because this city and it’s people are so relaxed, and schedules are fluid rather than compartmentalized like in the US. Slow because I’m a fool in a different language, and expressing myself takes a little longer or doesn’t happen at all for lack of vocabulary.
In some ways, I feel that I am here to learn that the best things often happen slowly. The sweetest moments are the ones not fully answered, not immediately understood.
Society is not good at silence, but in the noise of people yearning to be heard, meaning loses its way. Perhaps we are loud, but we are not understood. Perhaps we fear censorship, but noise can censor is just as well as silence can.
