Let me preface this post by saying I love the freedom of the internet.

I think it’s a great place to share ideas and resources.

If it weren’t for the generous spirit of The People of the Internet, I don’t think I’d be able to be a full time author and speaker. I wouldn’t have learned as much as I have in the last five years. I am so appreciative to people who find value in the conversations we have here or as a result of one of my books and who spread that message.

However, when a blog gets to be well-read, something happens. People begin emailing you asking you to plug things (books, CDs, organizations, giveaways, other blogs, their mom’s necklace line, PETA for Christians, etc.) all the time. In the time I was away this summer I had forty-three requests for book reviews or blog tours. It can make you feel like you’re a commodity. I’m not a fan of that feeling. (That’s why I’m also a little over-cautious with how I promote my new book…)

Anyway, one of these requests came from a very well-known pastor (although I’ve never met him). So, I thought I’d try an experiment.

Bottom line? I’ll let him speak to this platform if he lets me speak to his.

I’m typically not so stark or even subscribe to a philosophy of reciprocity. I think people should share because they want to – not because they’ll get something out of it. But again, this is just an experiment because I’m feeling a little snarky after going through forty-three requests. And because I like you guys a lot and don’t want to waste your time telling you about forty-three new books every two months.

Below is the email I sent to him in response to his request. Names have been removed to protect the innocent.

What’s your guess on how this will end? First person who guesses correctly wins a free copy of my new book. At this point, your guess is as good as mine.

Added: I’ll allow two weeks for a response and, if at that point there is no response, we will assume it’s a no go…

—–

Dear Well-Known Pastor,

Thanks for thinking of me for your blog tour.

Actually, first, I have to say I admire your keeping your “real” email address — many pastors of large churches I know change theirs to a tricky combination of their initials or golf nickname their pastor friends have given them like “theplaid@churchname.com” while the messages sent to the obvious email addresses go to gatekeepers. I used to be a gatekeeper. I understand. That’s why I have a generic email address listed on my blog. It can get overwhelming.

Anyway, as you can imagine, I get requests for book or product reviews or mentions all the time for my blog, In fact, just in the time I was away this summer, I received forty-three of them. Some were from new authors, others from pastors of large churches like yourself, and some from grammy-award winning artists (or their representatives).

It can make a girl feel like people are just out to use her for her blog’s audience. If I said yes to everything, that’s all my blog would be – and that isn’t the purpose of my blog.

It’s kind of like how you determine what to promote from the stage at your church. The tens of thousands of people who visit my blog monthly are, in some aspects, like a church, and I want to respect their time and challenge them with a message God’s placed on my heart. It’s one of the reasons I stopped advertising on my blog.

I have done book reviews or studies before, but they are usually books of people I know, or a book I’ve discovered in my own attempt to learn. Those are pretty much the only exceptions to “the rule of no blog tours.” It’s not that I’m completely opposed to them, it just doesn’t always line up with the purpose or the way I need to steward my time and the bit of platform I have been given.

However, for kicks and grins, I thought I’d try an experiment, and your email just happened to land in the right place at the right time.

I have a book releasing at the end of August with Thomas Nelson Publishers called Permission to Speak Freely – Essays and Art on Fear, Confession and Grace.

Since we’re probably in similar boats – each with a platform, each with a message, and each not really knowing the other person, I’d be willing to do a trade off…I’d be happy to share my thoughts on your book with my audience if you’d do the same (with whichever of your platforms is similar to size of reach and depth of influence as mine – it may be online, or perhaps your main audience are the people sitting in your church).

So–whaddya say?

Sincerely,
Anne Jackson

(PS – I emailed this from my personal email address, so feel free to respond here as I check this box more frequently.)

I love how Chapter 1 in In Praise of Slowness begins.

“What’s the very first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?”

The answer: We look at the clock.

For me, it just so happens that my clock is also my alarm is also my phone is also my email checker is also my Twitter checker is also my blog checker and my Google Reader and…

Before I even get out of bed, I’m caught up on what’s happened in my little world in the last six to eight hours.

That’s right.

MY little world.

One could argue I am simply checking in on connections and relationships.

But honestly, I’m just trying to find my first fix of affirmation for the day.

(FIRST fix. AHEM. More on that in a moment.)

In some philosophies, we learn from Honoré that time is considered cyclical. It’s renewing. Coming…going…it’s about seasons. Before there were things like clocks or time was measured as intricately as it is today, people ate when they were hungry and slept when they were tired.

In most of our developed countries, time is considered linear. There is a Point A (now) and a Point B (end) and we want to accomplish as much as possible between the two. We take chunks of activities (eating, sleeping, TV, work, community, sex, reading, shopping, consuming, etc.) and try and fit as many chunks as we can into these pre-determined amount of time.

So we feel rushed. We feel there’s never enough time to do everything.

(Hey, that’s because there *isn’t* enough time to do everything).

With improvements in technology over past centuries, we’ve been able to save time. It is going to take me two months to cycle across the country this summer. In a plane, I could knock that out in six hours.

If we let technology run the show, we don’t save time — we just end up with a different set of things to do. The amount of work hardly changes, if it changes at all.

This chapter, titled Do Everything Faster, ends with a very poignant quote from Mark Kingwell, a professor of philosophy at the University of Toronto.

“Despite what people think, the discussion about speed is never really about the current state of technology. It goes much deeper than that, it goes back to the human desire for transcendence.”

And that takes me back to my early morning affirmation/phone/clock check.

I know one day I’m going to die.

I’d like to hope that what I’m doing is making a difference.

Even though I’m not on this earth to make people happy, my morning “routine” is an (inaccurate) way I measure my value.

Sometimes things need to be done fast. When I was on a bike ride with a friend last week, a severe thunderstorm was approaching us. We needed to stop smelling the honeysuckle on the Natchez Trace and find shelter. When we need to travel quickly to reach family members in a crisis, we can. Some cancers can’t be treated slowly. You get my point.

However, instead of viewing time as a line with a start and a finish, I’m going to try and see my life and purpose in seasons. Some fast. Some slow. Some stressed. Some refreshing. Some aggressive. Some passive. Some giving. Some receiving.

By intentionally doing this, there is no Point A in my linear time line of life and purpose that begins each morning.

Instead, every morning is a step into a season.

…A season lived in truth to whatever I happen to be doing at the time.

…A season to be embraced and experienced fully.

Not rushed. Not hurried. And not afraid of the end.

(Because there is no end…just a season for leaving this physical life behind…)

Tomorrow we’ll begin to discuss some more of In Praise of Slowness‘s content, but I am so grateful Carl has taken part in these conversations. Below are some more thoughts from Carl (he left them in the comment section in yesterday’s post) on the church’s responsibility of taking on this movement of slow. I’ll offer some thoughts after his notes.

From Carl:

I think the church can spearhead the move to slow down. And by ‘church” I mean both ministers and congregations. After all, every religion has slowness at its core.

The idea of a Sabbath, of setting aside time to rest, reflect and reconnect with the self, with others and with God, is common across all faiths. It’s spelled out in black in white in the Bible: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

The problem is that the church has been infected by the same virus of hurry that has accelerated the rest of our culture.

Last year, I gave a talk in the chambers beneath St. Peter’s church in Vienna, Austria. It was the first time the crypt had been used for a secular event in nearly a thousand years. With the dim lighting, ancient altarpieces and faint whiff of incense, and with the stone walls blocking out all mobile phone reception, it was the perfect setting for an evening devoted to Slow. My hosts were a group of high-flying businesspeople but the monsignor in charge of the church was there, too. I felt a bit uneasy seeing him in the front row, but in the end he laughed along at my more risqué jokes. Afterwards, he came up to me with a confession. “You know, as I was listening to you, I suddenly realized how easy it is to do things in the wrong way,” he said.

“Lately I have been praying too fast.”

I live in England (my father-in-law is a retired vicar) and see the same problem in the church here: ministers forced to serve multiple parishes, dashing between congregations, grappling with red tape, spread so thinly that they struggle to minister properly and hover permanently on the edge of burnout. These days, we already have Speed Yoga and Drive-Thru Art Exhibitions. Maybe Speed Praying will be next.

There is a serious point here.

How can someone stuck in roadrunner mode preach the wisdom of slowness? The answer is they can’t.

It’s like Wall Street bankers singing the praises of salary restraint. Or Tiger Woods promoting monogamy. It doesn’t wash.

As Gandhi said, you must be the change you wish to see in the world.

The church is uniquely equipped to make the case for slowness.

But it must put its own house in order first.

It has to practice what it preaches…

—–

Anne’s Thoughts:

I know religion often screams at us to hurry because “souls are dying” and “ministry is 24/7″ and “we have to keep up!” I get it. I lived in that world for a long time. One of the examples Carl uses in his book is the classic race between the tortoise and the hare. I think we all know the outcome of that.

Yesterday, I also watched Carl’s TED talk, which someone had recommended. He talks about several European countries who have intentionally embraced the idea of appropriate slowness in the workplace. Not only are they healthier and more well-rounded people, the quality of their work exceeds the quality of work in nations who spend up to twice as many hours working a week.

The bottom line with taking on a slower, more intentional pace in faith, I believe, is this:

Who are we relying on?

Are we relying on the power within ourselves to accomplish the work in the world that we believe needs to happen? Or are we relying on our faith, and the power of community to do it?

Hi Anne,

Thanks for providing such a thoughtful arena for the ideas in In Praise of Slowness. This feels like the beginning of an urgent and beautiful conversation.

I’d like to inject a note of optimism. In this roadrunner world, it can sometimes feel like there is no option but to follow the hurrying herd. But there is.

Everywhere you look nowadays, more and more people are waking up to the folly of living in fast-forward and discovering that by slowing down judiciously they do everything better and enjoy everything more; they live happier, healthier and richer lives; they are grow more connected to themselves and to others.

When I first began researching In Praise of Slowness, the search term “slow movement” turned up nothing on Google. There was Slow Food and Citta Slow but that was about it. Today you get a half million entries on Google under “slow movement” in English.

I know these are big words, but I think we are on the cusp of a cultural revolution. Slow is not some shallow fashion trend, here today, gone tomorrow. We are lurching towards an historical turning point, a moment when the tectonic plates are beginning to shift below the surface.

For at least 150 years everything has been getting faster – and for the most part speed was probably doing us more good than harm in that time. But in recent years we’ve entered the phase of diminishing returns – today speed is doing us more harm than good. This turbo-charged culture is taking a toll on our health, diet and work, our communities, relationships and the environment.

The case for slowing down is so powerful today that it’s no longer just yoga teachers, aromatherapists and church ministers making it; it’s business too. The corporate world is starting to realize that too much speed and hurry hurts the bottom line; it erodes productivity, hampers creativity and leads to more mistakes. And look what happened recently to the global financial system. Things got so rushed in the markets that no one had the time or the incentive to lift up the hood and ask if the engine was overheating, to pull apart those collaterized debt obligations and credit default swaps to work out whether they were worth the paper they were written on. The whole system was based on fast growth, fast consumption and fast profits – and look how it nearly tipped us into a total economic meltdown.

There is still a very long way to go to win over the corporate world to the virtues of slowness, but there are encouraging signs. A senior manager at IBM has even launched a “slow email” movement, urging people to unplug and make the most of email (and life) by using email less. And that’s IBM, not a meditation school. The need for slowness is being discussed everywhere from the boardroom to the bedroom.

Let me finish by reiterating what Anne said in her post: the Slow philosophy is NOT about doing everything at a snail’s pace. It’s about seeking to do everything at the right speed. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, and sometimes not doing anything at all. Savoring the hours and minutes rather than just counting them. Doing everything as well as possible, instead of as fast as possible. Building deep and meaningful connections with people, the spirit, culture and the land. It’s about quality over quantity.

Perhaps Mae West put it best when she said: “Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.”

Lookiong forward to seeing where this conversation leads us….

—

Carl Honoré dropped by the blog last night and shared a few words with us. Thanks, Carl, for taking the time to engage into our little discussion!

I love that he reiterates a very positive, very doable point of view as most of us have expressed some sort of anxiety of “there’s-no-way-I-can-slow-down-my-life-is-a-mad-house!”

I know I have. Chris and I have several steps we are taking to be intentional about slowing down, some we even began this week. But we live life spending a minimum of 100 days on the road. How do you not hurry or grab a bite to eat in-between flights or avoid the microwaved eggs at hotels when you’re traveling?

Anyway, that’s for us to determine.

What I do think is interesting is both in the book and in his comment, he mentions that “slow” is often a pace set for church ministers. Since most people reading this blog are involved in some type of leadership role or staff position at a church, I can see how we are actually just now moving into the “fast” mode, and the statistics prove it. A higher percent of ministers are generally more overweight than the national average. Close to 2000 ministers leave their posts every month. The average length of stay at a church position is 18 months. More and more ministers are coping with escapism to deal with the stress. A large number (72-78% depending on where you get your stats from) don’t believe they have a close friend.

I personally ended up in the hospital almost five years ago because I had no idea how to manage my schedule or my stress. The cult of speed caught up with me in a significant way.

This is an epidemic within our stained-glass walls as well.

Those of us who have spent time inside the church or within religious circles know how damaging the pace has been increasing. He mentions how the Slow Movement has been gaining ground over recent years, so what if we helped lead this movement within our own circle of influence?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

There it sat on the bookshelves in our office/dining room/music studio. In Praise of Slowness by Carl Honoré.

My husband had read it months ago, loved it, and put it aside for me to read.

Someday.

Maybe when I wasn’t so busy.

As I was packing my bags for a quick trip to California last week, I asked him what I should read.

He handed me In Praise of Slowness.

And so the journey began.

—

I know at least forty of you ordered Carl’s book. If you didn’t, don’t worry. I’ll try to use the book as much as possible in this blog series so anyone can follow along. If you want to order it now and jump in on future posts, here’s the link.

—

Honoré begins the book with his own personal experience of a life ruled by hurry and busyness. He’s a successful journalist running a million miles an hour and sees the article that actually inspired this book — a piece called “The One Minute Bedtime Story.” As a father of a toddler, he fully understands the idea to speed up bed-time so he can move on to his evening routine of more and more rush. As he hovers over the purchase button, wondering how quickly Amazon can ship him the book he’s struck with a thought:

“Have I gone completely insane?”

He continues,

“My whole life has turned into an exercise of hurry, in packing more and more into every hour. I am Scrooge with a stopwatch, obsessed with saving every last scrap of time, a minute here, a few seconds there…”

And he wonders why all of the world around us seems to be in such a rush; in the same “cult of speed” (a term I love).

He asks if it’s possible or even desirable to take time to slow down.

He’s clear about his message early on: he is not proposing a war against speed.

Instead, it’s taking a step back and looking at our love of speed – an addiction? An obsession?

An idol?

(Cue punch in the stomach…now).

Has hurry become an idol?

(Yes, please keep chewing on that morsel…tough, isn’t it?)

Honoré describes physical side effects of hurry and burnout (hey, wait, I wrote a book on some of this stuff too…) like  insomnia, weight gain, headaches, poor diet, and lack of exercise.

He makes an interesting observation that the world’s fastest nations are also the fattest nations.

Other symptoms of this “busy idolatry” impact us socially.

We don’t look forward to things anymore.

We enjoy things too quickly, and the moment that we should be savoring is dismissed.

The word boredom hardly existed 150 years ago but now it’s one of our most common fears.

I know I’m afraid to be bored.

Afraid of what the silence brings.

Afraid I’m being lazy.

Or unproductive.

And therefore…worthless.

Something I’ve used hurry to medicate is my fear of becoming vulnerable in real community. If I’m busy, it leaves me no time to connect beyond a superficial level.

I’m afraid to really let people in, and so my calendar owns me, and it’s an easy way to cop out of  relationships and make excuses.

Because really…who’s going to argue with a calendar?

Honoré quotes Milan Kundera,

“When things happen too fast, nobody can be certain about anything, about anything at all, not even about himself.”

(Insecurity much?)

If we’re insecure of ourselves, we can’t be who we truly are with others.

And so we, who are created for others, and others for us, slowly pass away into a time warp of busyness and hurry.

And we wonder why we’re lonely. And we think we’re completely stuck.

We think there’s no way out because life has to be this way.

—

And this is just the introduction to the book…!

Over the next few blog posts in this series, we’ll cover a few chapters at once, but this introduction was so rich, I felt it deserved a post of its own.

So, what say you? If you’ve read the book, what’s connected with you? If you’re following along on the blogs, does any of this ring true with you?