Resisting the urge to conform

Photo credit: Booker T. Sessoms 2024

Near our apartment in Berlin, there is a bridge crossing the canal where folks gather at dusk to watch the sunset. There are no real benches, so people lean against the railing or sit on the curb, chatting quietly to friends.

Dusk comes earlier these days, so when we joined them yesterday, it was only about 6:30pm, a time when I usually would have been still working or finishing up calls had I been in New York City. As I settled into waiting for the oranges and reds of the sunset to grow more intense, that’s what I thought of: the slower pace here, the spaciousness, the room to think.

We all get to choose the speed of our lives, of course. On some days, I deliberately walk slower, on some days it feels impossible to slow down. This morning as I sat in silence, my body wanted to move after barely a minute, yesterday even 30 minutes felt short. I have stopped thinking of these daily fluctuations as proof that sitting still is “hard.” It just is. Taking the time to arrive to myself in the morning before news and email and bustle is what allows me to know how best to approach my day. It is information. It is life.

But there is a structural element too, the context in which we choose our speed. If our surroundings have no real practice of pausing, we feel silly or lazy if we do. If our community moves at a slower pace, running ahead seems uninformed or even rude. The culture of wherever we are dictates what is normal and what decidedly is not, and (importantly) varies much less than the energetic fluctuations of our bodies and selves.

This is the true test: how to stay aligned with my body, how to resist the urge to conform. Whether I need time or movement, I have learned to state it clearly, to ask for what I need. I have not yet learned to ignore the dread of being seen as lazy, silly, or rude.