The Best Things Take Time

The best things take time. Sometimes it’s hard to remember there can be value in moving slowly. With so much at our fingertips, we’ve developed unrealistic expectations and an impatience that may prevent us from pursuing options that might be more rewarding in the long run.

It’s the way of modernization. Computers revolutionized graphic design, speeding up the process. Dropping the background out of a photo went from painstakingly cutting Rubylith® with an X-ACTO® knife to creating a mask in Photoshop. Errors didn’t mean starting over. Additional effects were available at the touch of a mouse. But rather than resulting in ever more complex and intricate designs, the deadlines just got shortened and expectations of quality slowly declined.

Gardening falls prey to rushing as well. There are ways to hurry the process – start with plants instead of seeds; choose only fast-growing plants; grow using hydroponics and grow lights. If you’re in need of food quickly, all of these are great options. But if you’re looking for the pleasure of discovering shoots peeping through the soil and digging in the dirt, they won’t necessarily add pleasure.

Taking time to savor a meal is often sacrificed to holding a sandwich and the steering wheel in the same hand. And forget taking your time to prepare food from scratch. Store selections, overbooked schedules, and even cooking shows push a narrative of faster is better.

I’m not immune from taking on too many obligations and sticking with things too long even when they detract from my quality of life. But I am aware that I’d rather make bread using my hands instead of a bread machine. I love watching the dough slowly rise while smelling yeast in the air. The whir of a machine doesn’t bring the same level of immersion or pleasure.

I know that reading a novel takes longer than renting the movie, but the art of beautiful language is often lost in a screen adaptation. And there’s something less magical about the character you see on screen versus the character you see in your mind. That’s often why movies don’t measure up when you’ve read the book.

As we become more chronically ill and anxious in the US, I have to wonder how much these states are related to our rushing around choosing shortcuts?

I spent what seemed like an eternity prepping fresh green beans today. Will the result be worth it when I cook them? Absolutely. No frozen or canned beans ever come close to comparing. And once I started, I enjoyed the process.

That’s just it. Once you start anything, you’ll be surprised how many times you enjoy the process. The torture comes more often from procrastination than from trying or even trying and failing. When you allow yourself to learn, failing has its own rewards.

So, stop fooling yourself. Start whatever it is you are delaying. See how it goes. Note whether you were tempted to take a shortcut because of misinformed anticipation or fear or something else. Knowing what stops you will help you avoid the same pitfall in the future.

Also take note of all good things that come along with deliberately moving slowly. Awe-inspiring art, soul-moving music, breathtaking choreography, powerful narrative, and unbeatable baking all originate in in slow space because the best things take time.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I have not received any compensation for writing this post. I have no material connection to the brands, products, or services that I have mentioned. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”