How Slow Can You Go?

The red squirrel nation was thick in the treetops today; squealing and sputtering, alerting me to my own loud presence, feet crunching on twigs and dried pine needles. I stopped in front of a white pine, the dogs sitting next to my legs, as we all looked up, watching as a squirrel ran up and down getting closer to us each time. I stared, laughing, as it ran down shrieking, tail twitching back and forth. It was seemingly as curious about us as we were about it. Either that or it was simply pissed off that we were standing so close to the tree.

As I stood there watching this tiny furry creature I started to think about slowing down and what it really means. How slow and simple does one have to be in order to have a healthy and balanced life without dis-ease? How much stimulus and stress can a human organism handle?

I contemplated this as I continued down the trail to one of the spawning areas on the river. Sitting near a waterfall while the pups patrolled for cougars I ate dried mango slices from Mexico and watched hundreds of dragonflies swarming in the air feasting on small gnat like insects; the food chain in flight against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. The dragonflies were the color of my moss green metallic water bottle and had transparent wings. I had never seen so many at once. I pondered that perhaps I have missed out on a lot in my previous fast paced life, and wondered even if perhaps it was still too fast (even though I'm not working and I sleep a lot and take naps and sit by rivers frequently).

This brought on more questions in my busy mind: Are humans only meant to focus on one task at a time? What are the consequences of constant over stimulation without adequate rest (for the mind & body)? Is Attention Deficit Disorder a by product of too much, too fast for an organism struggling to be in the present moment?

The day before I had procured a sandwich from Amazing Grace and spirited it away to Lester River. I had the pups with me and had planned on sharing half of it with them when we got settled somewhere on the river bank. I was most excited about the pickle. For me, the pickle makes the sandwich. Those sandwichs are awesome but they are more awesome with the pickle.

The dogs were playing in the water as I chomped on the sandwich; sun shining, cool breeze, East Duluth paradise on a river rock. I picked up the pickle with a twinkle in my eye, mouth already salivating. I was making a conscious choice to savor this pickle as I took the first bite when suddenly I noticed that Che had poop hanging out of his butt and was running around, scared because he didn't know what it was.

I began to chase him trying to pull the poop out with a big leaf, noticing that the long grass he likes to munch on was the culprit. I was laughing and he was running and I finally caught him and pulled it out (ah, kids!). Sighing, I returned to my sandwich looking for my pickle. I was ready to enjoy the rest of it!

But alas, there was no pickle. I was confused, where was my precious pickle? I could still taste the sour vinegar in my mouth and that was when I realized I had eaten it completely during the poop chase.

I missed out on my pickle!

I ate it unconsciously because I could only focus on one thing at a time. This revelation led me to a more solid belief that if I am multi-tasking I am probably missing out on something, perhaps something even as awesome as the perfect pickle.

That being said, let it be known that I, Hilary Danielle Buckwalter hereby question the value of multi-tasking, in the name of sanity, health, pickles and all that is holy.

So there you have it, more questions. How slow is slow enough?

How slow can YOU go?