I Had Forgotten What Slow Felt Like

Today, I uninstalled the Instagram app from my phone.

The main reason was the endless swiping after office hours. It had become a routine—one to one-and-a-half hours every night before I fell asleep.

No, I was not nudged into uninstalling Instagram by any content posted on social media. The urge came from a desire to re-experience slowness through a physical activity.

Meditation is already part of my routine, but I needed a change. Something that began physically, then calmed my mind, and eventually made me experience thehrav—no hurry in the moment, with full awareness.

So, after uninstalling Instagram, I went back to something simpler. I read a few pages of a book and then started writing by hand.

During the COVID lockdown in 2020, I went for a 180-km ride on my bicycle.

For the first 100 kilometres, I struggled to accept the fact that I was slow and vehicles raced past me. Imagine cycling solo on a lonely highway and being overtaken by vehicles travelling at ten times your speed.

You are not used to this. You have also driven your car at those speeds. You have forgotten what slow speed feels like—the speed of cycling.

I had thoughts of being a failure, lagging behind, wasting my energy and engaging in a fruitless activity. The thoughts kept circling in my mind.

As the day passed, I covered around 100 kilometres in six or seven hours. Slowly, those thoughts vanished.

I recall experiencing harmony between my body and mind. No regrets. No anger. Just peace.

As I cycled, I could see myself overtaking stationary trees, leaving milestones behind, passing local cyclists and cattle. These things were not visible to me before.

I felt happy, calm and composed.

Finally, in the twelfth hour of the ride, after covering around 180 kilometres, I no longer had the feeling of being left behind.

Something similar, in reverse, was perhaps happening when I swiped for newer reels on Instagram. I was rushed, as if I was missing something ahead.

At times, maybe it was an addiction to not letting my mind slow down and experience the present moment.

Maybe it is something else. I don’t know.

The first draft of this article is handwritten using an ink pen.

The first two pages were all scribbled. My thoughts were flowing at a different pace, and my hand was finding it tough to keep up with my mind and jot those thoughts down on paper.

I decided to stop.

Then I took an insight from an old article that talked about learning to write by simply copying text from a favourite book.

I did that for six pages.

My rhythm was restored. The pace that was missing between my mind and my hand was back.

My learning is that a peaceful experience of slowness may return only by indulging in activities that complement it.

Cycling instead of driving.

Walking instead of cycling.

Writing on paper instead of typing on a phone.

Perhaps slowness needs a physical form before the mind can experience it.