Slow Is the Way To Fullness

Photo by Jack Anstey

While working in Bangalore, many years ago, I found myself pulled over on the side of a busy motorway, halfway to the airport. I was already late for the plane and a call with someone at work was leaving me uncertain as to whether I even needed to fly to Dubai. My driver, ever patient, waited as I made my decision.

I was rushing through life back then - darting from one task to the next, consumed by urgency. My driver, whose name I can’t even remember (a casualty of my distraction), was my anchor in the chaos. He navigated Bangalore’s relentless traffic with a quiet grace, smiling even as he argued with other drivers.

Finally, I got off the phone and told him to drive on to the airport so we could catch the flight. My stress levels must have been telling. Before shifting gears, he turned around, looked me squarely in the eye, and asked, “Are you happy, sir?”

Now, this may have been just a question of whether I was happy with the outcome of the call, but given the circumstances I was under, I took it to be more of a general question about my life and it landed like a punch to the gut. I paused, then lied: “Yes.”

But I wasn’t happy. Life was slipping through my fingers.  Any reason I could find to justify the life I was living I knew, deep down, was an excuse.

I wasn’t connecting with the people around me; I wasn’t returning their smiles. I wasn’t marvelling at the vibrant chaos of the city, the heady scents, or the improbable sight of an elephant walking down the street. I wasn’t letting life touch me. I wasn’t, in short, properly engaging with life, because I wasn’t present with it. Instead, I was always just ahead of myself.

When we rush, we disconnect. We focus on chasing, achieving, and packing in experiences, all the while overlooking the richness of what’s right in front of us.

Slowness is an act of humility, reminding us that we cannot force life into existence any more than we can speed up a river. Life is something we co-create. When we slow down we recognise that life happens withus and that, when it is experienced beyond just the conceptual, is a profound moment.

We begin to notice the vibrancy of our surroundings, the texture, even the intelligence of the present moment. Just as a slow river absorbs the richness of its immediate environment, so do we. Slowness makes us “nutrient-dense.” It roots us in the here and now, grounding us in the richness of life’s unfolding.  

I’m talking about presence. Ironically, for those of us who are always chasing, presence offers something we deeply value: capacity. By capacity, I mean the ability to fully experience whatever life brings—its joys, challenges, and everything in between. Presence, then, becomes synonymous with feeling alive, and slowness is the gateway that leads us there.

However, slowness is often challenging, especially if we haven’t practised it. It exposes the discomfort we often avoid by rushing - impatience, frustration, or even fear. These feelings offer insights if we’re willing to sit with them. They reveal the parts of ourselves we’ve ignored or silenced. Moving slowly allows us to catch up with ourselves and allow the parts we left behind—our feelings, reflections, and needs - to resurface, reintegrating into a fuller, more authentic version of ourselves.

In any coaching conversation with a client I intentionally slow things down. In the stillness, parts of themselves they’ve abandoned start to catch up. It’s here, in this quiet space, that they reconnect with who they are and what they want. Slowing down isn’t necessarily about doing less, although it may need to be for some of us; rather, it’s about creating the space for inspiration, integration, and transformation to occur.

Slow is the way to fullness.

Slow is the way to recognising that the next holiday, iPhone or pint we are chasing isn’t actually required, because we realise, that perhaps, it comes from an insatiable appetite that is designed to distract us away from our own discomfort. I wonder what would happen to the conformist consumer modern culture we live in if we were all to slow down?

Like a wide, slow-moving river, we might open up to possibilities that hadn’t even occurred to us. We might allow gravity and grace to draw life’s tributaries towards us. We might notice and appreciate more of what we already have and what is already here. We might, in our inner alignment, act with more wisdom. We might also nourish those around us, inviting them to pause and drink from the stillness we embody.  

During my time in Bangalore, I eventually left the chaos for a day and ventured into the countryside. Amid ancient temples and open fields, I felt my entire being expand. For the first time in months, I could breathe. I knew I couldn’t possibly turn things around in my life until I slowed down. I knew, in that moment, that slowness isn’t a luxury - it’s a necessity. It’s the path to fullness. It allows life to soak into us, nourishing us from the inside out.

So my invitation to you is to step out of the rushing current. Let go of the need to chase and embrace the stillness of the moment.

Slow is the way to fullness.

Life is not “over there” in some future destination. It’s here, now, waiting to be felt, tasted, lived.