Lessons in Slow

Hello! I’m Wandering Alice.
Writer, yoga teacher, lover of nature & perpetual seeker.
wanderingalice.world

I see Alberto and his mother fixing nets beneath the almond tree. The early evening sun falls over them, glowing in their methodical work. The mountains surrounding them pillow; rising and falling like lengths of green velvet, closing in like a hug.

“Bueno” they call, and we smile and make broken small talk about going for a walk. As we continue towards the hill I glance back and think about how the everyday, simple tasks, are the ones that mean the most. They ground us into reality, soothe us from the overwhelm.

I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on how we fill our lives with WhatsApp pings, Instagram reels, pressure to grow, succeed, thrive — all the things we need, apparently. But in that moment, of observing nets being fixed beneath the almond tree, I notice that familiar feeling of dread, of the world spinning too fast, and me—unsure and unsteady. My tummy knots and I resolve to greater simplicity, to letting less into my life so that I can see more.

The Hill (2017)

My heart beats fast as we reach the top of the hill. I soak in the 360° view and think, not of photographing it for others, but of soaking it in for me. Sometimes I feel lives can be played out too much for others and in so doing, the true essence of those moments are lost. But then, I recognise that we are all different, that perhaps I am simply not cut out for sharing each moment, and that that’s okay. 

I shall save it for words, instead.

I went to the shop in town yesterday to buy new A4 ruled pads and pens. The sewing of nets made me realise that I, too, need to do something with my hands beyond typing. To write once again with pen and paper, to flow freely from mind to the page, without the option of cut and paste. I wonder if I will feel tempted to alter the flow when I type these words up, and resolve to leave them just as they are.

Because this is the lesson. To slow down, to be in the moment, and to not manipulate that moment. For that is the true experience of life.

I write now in silence. A neighbour passes by, lumbering slowly, the chimney hat twirls, clunking on each hour and the world, here in this tiny village in Andalucia, stands still. 

And my heart, too, feels steady.

With love,

Wandering Alice
🧡🙏🏻🍂