Moving at the speed of presence

Photo via Upsplash by @artemverbo

Time is the ultimate shape-changing substance. Sometimes it goes so fast you feel like you hardly blinked and 21 years went by (read: parenthood). Sometimes, even 20 minutes can feel like an eternity (read: meditation).

And sometimes, very very rarely, time moves at the perfect speed, allowing for our thoughts to catch up to our bodies, for the mind to rest, for the breath to be quiet and calm. Allowing for our full selves to be present.

I had such a long and lovely moment this past Saturday.

The previous night I had crewed a sailboat from Connecticut to Rhode Island. Sailing is an efficient time-morpher most of the time, but that’s not what I am talking about now. I am talking about the 12 hours it took me to get back to Brooklyn from Newport.

The short version is that it involved a lot of public transportation with long waiting periods to match up the rides. The in-betweens were filled with eating, reading, and people-watching.

The slightly longer version is that 12 hours were the absolute minimum it should have taken for me to do that trip at that time. When I walked, I walked so slow it surprised even me. There was no way to move any faster: I was moving at the speed of my presence, and I had the time to do just that. At no point did I feel rushed or worried. At no point did I feel impatient or ready to bolt.

In my memory, I can remember only once before having this experience, some time in the early 2010s in Paris. I had traveled there from Geneva for a change of scenery and to walk, alone. I recall walking through every central arrondissement. I remember the meals I had, the calls I made, the views I saw. I remember it all. And so it will be with this past Saturday.

But I think I learned one additional thing this time around.

As it happens, I don’t always need to move slowly, I just need to move at the speed of my presence. There is a difference. And maybe, just maybe, that difference is yoga.