A year, distilled

Photo

Last weekend I read a blog post by Penelope Trunk in which she said, “Gen Y mistakes the speed of the Internet for their own speed”. Which resonated a lot, like a little bell inside my brain. The fast pace of the internet is not my life (even though it is the nature of my job, hello March content plans). However in the real world, time plods. My grandmother would not have any sort of anxiety in telling her friends about the successes of her year in January, so if I want to blog about 2012 on January the 16th, I can.

In 2012, I started a new dreamy job at a digital agency in Clerkenwell, where I have made the best pals who I enjoy drinking cocktails with regularly. I visited Paris (twice), Barcelona, the Scottish Highlands and Norwich. I travelled through the Moroccan countryside in a taxi for three hours with a sheep in the trunk. I witnessed a year go past in one house, which made me feel stable. I fell in love with London, and I stayed in love. I worked my butt off and spent more time on Facebook than a normal human should. I also paid off a shit-ton of debt, which is not very sexy to talk about on the internet, but it is the achievement I am most proud of in 2o12. I drank wine and ate cheese in a 122 year old wine bar, then returned there to welcome the new year in.

Do I tag this post nostalgia?

Slow down

I read this quote today while researching a hunch I had about the link between social media and gambling. It’s about Facebook:

“I don’t really like it,” he said.  “It seems to me that people who are on a lot are denying a couple things.  They’re making time not exist – the speed of it, the instant back and forth.  And, they’re denying that people grow apart.”

Like matrons flirting with one armed bandits, I find myself increasingly refreshing the page, hoping for a little red pop-up, a reward for being witty, interesting or cute. To be honest, I feel like a rat who gets a pellet for pushing the correct buttons. No matter how much praise I get, I still want more, and I want it now. Do the words mean anything to me, or is it just the thrill of the red bubble?

From now on, I want to concentrate on slowing down. When I travel, I prefer to linger, enjoying the passage of time and the ‘I wish things would never end’ sentiment (I’m the only girl I know who hass spent 10 days straight in Bangkok, not going to the islands). Why not apply this chrono-appreciation to the every day? Learn to savour the slow things in life…

The other point about cultivating dead friendships struck me too. Perhaps we should appreciate them as flowers, and accept sometimes they’ll wither away. Again, if they’re worth saving, we should take our time in reviving them, using love and face to face interaction.

With those fresh thoughts in my head, here are several beautiful things that are slow, delightful and worth taking time over:

Bread rising…

Weekend sleep-ins…

Train travel…

Processing film and printing photos

Fromage…

Reading books…

Crystals…

Walking or even rambling…

Brewing your own ginger beer

Let’s take our time?