The other day, I was late for work. I missed the metro and here in Switzerland, when you miss your first mode of transportation, you can be sure that you will also miss your connection. So, there was nothing to do but wait for the next metro and catch the next train to Lausanne.
Knowing that you will be late is an uncomfortable feeling. For me, there is a simultaneous rush of anxiety and irritation and helplessness that sets my heart pounding and shortens my breath. It is safe to say that I find this experience extremely aversive and do what I can to avoid it. But then I remembered something that I say so often in my practice: When you feel the impulse to avoid, try approaching instead.
And so, I relaxed my body, brought my focus to the breath and then watched the anxious thoughts flooding through my mind. By slowing down and intentionally investigating my internal experience, I found that I could step back a bit, remind myself that even though my thoughts felt like facts, they likely were not. I could bring in a different “voice” to counter these anxious thoughts: If I came to work 15 minutes late, I would still have enough time to prepare for my first client and even if I didn’t have enough time, I have enough experience to be able to manage just fine.
Once the wave of “lateness distress” peaked, I decided to see if I could enjoy this small gift of time I had unintentionally received. I channeled my first mindfulness teacher, Dr. Andy Moore at the University of Wisconsin, who once told us that “If you’re late, you’re late. There is no amount of thinking or worrying that will get you there any faster.” It was so nice to be able to stroll to my connecting train, observing the rush of the morning commute. I listened to the street musicians in the terminal. I stood in a sunny spot on the platform. Honestly, I enjoyed myself!
And three days later, I remember those pleasant moments more than I remember the stress. Even though I do not intend to try and be late in the future, I do feel more empowered to manage this experience when it inevitably happens again. Research indicates that it does not take major changes to routine or behavior to form new habits, it just takes brief but repeated moments of intentionally trying something different. This post is headed by a photograph of the Grand Canyon because I think it is a nice metaphor for what can be created as a result of slow but sustained effort. Turning toward difficulty with kindness and self-compassion can become more routine and automatic with the help of gentle intention practiced over time.
For me, slowing down is a habit I hope to cultivate- even in the face of difficulty and unease. And how about for you? What ways of thinking or behaving would you like to deepen in your life?