From 1978-1983, a comedy TV show aired on ABC and NBC called “Taxi.” Its notable, predominantly white male cast included Danny DeVito, Judd Hirsch, Tony Danza, and Christopher Lloyd. During its run, the show won 18 Primetime Emmys, among other awards. The top-rated episode came in 1979 during Season 2 and was titled “Reverend Jim: A Space Odyssey.” Christopher Lloyd played Reverend Jim Ignatowski and he attempts to pass a written driver’s exam with some help.
However, he’s stumped over the question, “What does a yellow light mean?” He asks his friend, Bobby Wheeler, played by Jeff Conaway, for help, and Bobby says, “Slow down.” So, Jim asks the question again, this time speaking slower. Bobby repeats his answer, and Jim slows down his question even more, “Wwwwhhhaaaat dooeesss aaaa yyyeeeellllowwww lllliiiight mmmmeeeannn?” According to IMDB trivia, the actors had been instructed to repeat the joke until the audience stopped laughing and the writer/director said that it was quite possibly the funniest show he ever did.
While slow down can mean that you reduce your rate of speech, there are other ways to slow down as well. Take your time. Don’t rush. Drive the speed limit. Smell the roses. Sit longer in a beautiful spot. Linger longer with a friend.
When we are in a transition period, we tend to want it to go by fast. We want to adjust quickly to the new normal. We want as little time as possible spent feeling disoriented and uncomfortable (as I wrote about two weeks ago). We don’t like feeling unsettled and so we’d rather rush through that feeling until we get to the more preferred feelings of settled, comfortable, and confident. Unfortunately, a lot of transitions cannot be hurried along. Some changes take time and cannot be rushed.
A couple weeks ago, American Christianity historian and author Diana Butler Bass shared in her Substack post on “The Fermented Life” about how long the fermentation process takes. Fermentation is a slow process that transforms one substance into another. Both bread and wine are made this way. Both bread and wine, “ancient staple foods,” as Diana Butler Bass calls them, and sacramental foods, are fermented foods. The process cannot be rushed. Fermentation is a transition that requires time.
What would happen if you slowed down your transition? What would happen if you dwelled in the discomfort and not knowing? You might become more anxious, or impatient. You might also notice something that you otherwise wouldn’t have. When you slow down your process, you can examine each thought a little closer. Find out if you really believe it, or not. Find out if it really serves you, or does you a disservice. When you slow down the conversation instead of getting carried in the flow, you may notice that your conversation partner lets drop tidbits that they did not mean to reveal, but that are really what they want to tell you and need you to hear. You never know what you’ll see, or learn, if you’re willing to go slower.
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin was a French Jesuit priest and scientist who also served in World War I. A fair amount of his work was controversial within the Catholic Church, not least because he ascribed to the racist theory of eugenics. Despite this misguided belief, this passage he wrote in a letter to his cousin, Marguerite Teilhard-Chambon, from the front lines of war and dated July 4, 1915, resonates with me and challenges me. These letters were collected and published posthumously, originally in French, and later in English under the title, “The Making of a Mind: Letters from a Soldier-Priest 1914-1919.”
“Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through
some stages of instability—
and that it may take a very long time.”
*For related reading, I’ve written before on how Healing Takes Time and Transformations Take Time.
This is beautiful, Heather. thanks for writing.