Have you ever told others to do something that you have yet to grasp HOW to really do?
I have spent the past year learning what it means to live in contemplative spaces. My work in spiritual direction has required an intentional slowing down for deeper thinking to replace minute-by-minute distractions. I am a person who loves to multitask and feels accomplished by the amount of things achieved in a day. So, even with my slowing down practices, I continue to learn what it means to pause and consider what is happening in my moments.
This past week, my Macbook screen went black twenty minutes before I was to present a two-hour interactive online training for 50 adults. My training was the launch of two days together.
Frustration, panic, and a large amount of adrenaline coursed through my body as I began searching for solutions. Thankfully, my husband was working from home and supplied his computer. I got on Zoom in time to hear my introduction.
Did I say thankfully? I was thankful in the first few minutes, but rapidly, grumbling replaced my fleeting gratitude. Operating on his 12-year-old PC after working on Mac computers for years was like a tectonic plate shift for my fingers, mind, and body. I wasn’t just operating on a different laptop; I was working in a foreign land, in an unfamiliar language.
Over the next two days, every time I saw myself on camera, I tried to focus on something other than the fact that this computer didn’t have the capacity for our event’s virtual background. In our online staff meetings, I resisted bringing up this borrowed computer as an excuse for some jumbled message sent. I continually confessed my attitude to Jesus, trying to be present for one of my final events.
And I had to slow down. In fact, all my frustration came from trying to operate at the speed I was used to – forgetting that something significant had changed. If I insisted on acting like nothing had changed, I was sure to fall into making my burden a burden for others. I had to surrender the computer issues and adapt to work with what was available and see the opportunity during a disappointing turn of events.
What did I learn from my slowdown?
My part in the event wasn’t about me – as I had to remind myself- it was about them. I regained so much empathy for the technical issues that are constantly present to our participants at times like this. I appreciated how my struggles connected me with the audience.
I didn’t need efficiency to present well. I needed a connection that relied on something other than the smoothest operating tech. Connection takes a slow speed and is so often born out of our struggles.
With hindsight, I may be learning something from slowing down.