#274: Go Slowly, Smoothly
I love that Corey took what could have otherwise been seen as a limitation or hindrance to his daily tasks and movements, and turned it into something so meaningful - a positive reminder for the overall nature he'd like to embody and go forth with.
Thank you Corey, for sharing all that you learned and re-connected with through your injury... and for tying it to a very compelling Chinese expression that I appreciate you bringing to light.
- Amanda
Go Slowly, Smoothly
It finally happened a couple weeks ago. My streak of 8 years of not being injured finally came to an end.
The first couple of days of managing my body’s recovery were the most challenging — lots of hopping, RICE, and moving carefully. An ankle sprain is maybe one of the better injuries to have, I think, if I had to choose. It forced me to slow down. “How ridiculous,” I thought as I replayed the incident over and over, “a yoga and meditation teacher getting injured as he’s racing his kids to school”. Sometimes I think the expected traits of the characters I assign to myself often move me farther away from them. But I hadn’t been keeping up with my morning meditation practice… so, in a strange way, maybe my ankle was helping me make up for that lost practice time by slowing me down.
I recently learned, from Zak Dychtwald’s episode on the Coburn Ventures Podcast, about one of the expressions used in Chinese to say goodbye.
“Mànzǒu” is used by hosts to bid farewell to their guests, and translates to “go away slowly”. The idea being that hosts don’t really want their guests to leave, and the guests don’t really want to go, but must. And how it could also be taken with the deeper meaning (as I understand much of the Chinese language often has) to move through life more slowly; a hidden “smell the roses”. In the podcast, Zak offers the thought of how poetic it is for everyone to be reminding each other to take more time, and enjoy the journey every time they part ways.
The other words that echoed in my mind were those of the Navy Seals: “slow is smooth, smooth is fast”. I’d heard these words on a Tim Ferriss podcast years ago, and had only really thought about them before in relation to my pull-up practice. But now, when every single step or adjustment was important to consider (so as to not bump my swollen ankle), this mantra was with me many minutes of the day.
I’ve recovered in a little over two weeks. My ankles have slowly returned to being about the same size, and I can lace my left shoe again (I’ll always be amazed by the human body’s remarkable ability to heal itself). But I did realize I felt a little disappointed when I was able to move more quickly again; worried that the lessons in slowness my injury taught me would fade. As if there were a way to keep it in mind without having to get injured. Perhaps that’s why it’s included in an everyday Chinese saying — it keeps the wisdom alive, accessible for all those who look for it. Mànzǒu, friends.