Don't stop; just slow down

Staying focused on the task, remaining "flowy" throughout it, is what we need to practice more.

Here’s something that caught my attention – and it wasn’t in the land of the internet for once!

Near my house is a set of traffic lights with the following sign:

"WHEN FLASHING GIVE WAY TO PEDS"

The exact sign I’m writing about.

Maybe you’ve got one near you, or perhaps you’ve never seen one.

I thought nothing of it the first time I walked by. But the next time, I saw it in action. The lights begin flashing yellow, a pedestrian gets the all-clear from the crossing and oncoming cars slow down.

Yeah Josh, that’s how crossings work.

True, but not entirely. Vehicles will slow down to a stop. This ingenious flashing system solves the biggest issue with pedestrian crossings:

When a red light, a green crossing signal, and no pedestrians are present. We’re all a little peeved when we need to stop with no one crossing.

With this little Give Way sign, all you do is slow down. If there’s a pedestrian - you wait. But if there isn’t, you can speed back up and go through.

Sweet mother, that’s beautiful.

If you’ve read previous letters, you’ll know that the above has some parallels:

• An inconvenience that seems much bigger than it is

• Focussing my energy on something out of my control

But one that’s a bit more obscure; flow.

All it takes is one wrongly placed stoplight (or too many in a row) to disrupt the energy, or flow, of our journey.

Ever in the middle of something that requires fine focus?

“Josh!” comes a shout from across the house. “Could you just come into the kitchen for a moment?”

I oblige and go into the kitchen “for a moment” and then return to my task. Unfortunately, by the time I’m back my flow has been broken, and it is no easy task to get it back. I came to a halt and then restarted.

But if that interference had only been:

“Hey Josh!” comes a voice from a head entering the doorway. “Do you have a minute?”

“Not just yet, focussing on something. I’ll come to find you when I’m done.”

A brief pause rather than a complete stop. Our focus moves little and momentarily, just enough to keep us from being pulled out of our flow.

Cool man, but what’s the point?

Excellent question, kind reader.

Don’t stop; just slow down.

Pushed too hard at the gym? Don’t stop going; take it back a notch.

A side project taking up a lot of your time? Don’t park it; slow down. Divide it into manageable pieces.

At times, we need to stop. However, this is not always necessary. We are reluctant to stop, not because stopping is difficult, but because resuming is a tricky task. This is a frequent occurrence. When we accept too much and are unable to handle everything we are a part of. Typically, the first thought is “I need to stop.” However, what if the question was “How would it feel if I slowed down?” Could you take more time with each task and be more intentional about the outcomes?

I’ll leave you with this:

I've been utilising a primary method from the book Four Thousand Weeks, by Oliver Burkeman.

At any one time, limit yourself to three projects and decline any new ones that arise.

These projects could be a house renovation, an art series or a Movember campaign in which you donned a mullet and moved 600 kilometres throughout the month.

Then split those projects down into the tasks to be done. And from those combined projects, allocate no more than ten tasks to complete. Want to add one more to the list? Gotta cross one off first.

Surprisingly, it’s been a refreshing and straightforward system. On my morning walk, I'll assess my to-do list and decide what I want to tackle for the day. And if I miss my morning walk, I look at the items on the list and see what I can tick off when I get to my computer.

Maintain a work-life balance that is realistic, achievable and sustainable. Don’t stop; just give way.

Stay safe, and pass-it-on.