Both of these solutions made me very anxious. First of all, slowing down is completely counter-intuitive. Sounds like silly priest-talk to me. If I slow down, I’m going to take longer doing everything I have to do. That makes no sense. When I have more to do, I try to do it faster. Efficiency is my answer to the problem. Inefficiency is absolutely maddening to me.

And “do less”? OK, that’s reasonable, but then more of what I have to do gets pushed to tomorrow and the next day and the next day. That’s almost painful to consider. What makes me feel good about my day is accomplishing what needs to be done. Then I don’t have unfinished business hanging over my head…..

And so goes the anxiety-flavored thought streams that the ideas of slowing down and doing less stir up. Anxiety is always a great nudge of some kind, an opportunity to uncover some inner veil that obscures what is real and meaningful and valuable. Anxiety and other such emotional reactions, no matter how subtle or extreme, are obstacles to the experience of our own truth, of the presence of being, of love and the consciousness of God that we are all equipped to know.

So I ask myself, “Why am I so afraid to slow down and do less?”

I scan my anxiety with a curious attention, for that’s where the answer is. “Something bad will happen.”

“Yes, but what? What will happen that is so terrible?”

“Everything will fall apart.”

“Everything?”

“Well, no, not everything…. But I won’t feel on top of things. My life will begin to feel out of control. I may miss something important.”

“So you’re pretty good at keeping things in control and knowing what’s important?”

“Not really, but I would like to. The idea of being on top of things gives me a sense of security and peace. The idea of not staying on top of things – of there being a lot of unfinished stuff at the end of my day – makes me feel very nervous.”

“Is this peace a genuine peace? The kind of peace you experience in meditation?”

“Actually, no. It’s more a feeling of relief.”

And so went an internal dialogue that revealed more truth about my relationship to time and completion than I was ever willing to know:

- My urgent need for completion stems from a need to control.

- My need to control is a natural human response to the fear of living in a world that is both uncontrollable and sometimes, unpredictably dangerous.

- The drive to always be doing something is an unconscious impulse to remain preoccupied with the outside world in order to avoid painful feelings.

- This is a false line of reasoning: If I don’t do anything, nothing will change. If I do something, maybe I will get closer to a solution. I will at least feel better.

- This explains, in part, why “doing less” is so uncomfortable.

- Another false line of reasoning: The quicker I do something, the sooner it will be done…. Well, not always. Mistakes are made in haste. And pausing to reflect can yield new perspectives and insights that can save hours of time.

The notion now of slowing down in order to have more time doesn’t sound so foolish.

My friend’s advice, in the end, is really quite profound.

Want more time? Slow down and do less. What is created is spaciousness itself. And space, especially inner space, is vast and endless.