The Art of a Slow Day

I've learned many things from Mr. Wonderful, but one thing I have come to value most is the art of a Slow Day.  A Slow Day looks like one without a schedule and without expectations.  There may be a few loose tasks to accomplish but there will be wide open margins in which to get those things done.

Saturday is our Slow Day.  My favorite part of the day is waking up without having to leave early. I have time to sip coffee, read, just sit and stare out the window.  I love it.  On these days I'm usually out of bed before Mr. Wonderful and I enjoy the solitude.  Sometimes, I rejoin him after coffee just to enjoy being together.

The art is to carve out blocks of time doing nothing that feels like work.  The nuance is to do the necessary work without the pressures of time constraint and schedule.

On a typical Slow Saturday, we exercise, we go out to lunch and we tackle some laundry.  Often Mr. Wonderful plays his bass guitar and I tackle some errands like making donations or grocery shopping.  The exercise often happens with a friend for each of us. There is not an agenda, just a loose idea of what we would like to accomplish.  It is common to end the afternoon with a nap.

My children return home in the early evening, but even they seem to fall into the slow of our routine.  Most often, we stay home on Saturday nights.  The downtime is essential to each of us.  As a task-oriented "doer of all the things,"  I didn't know the value of Slow Day's until I saw the example of Mr. Wonderful.

I've changed so much through my lifetime, and I am positive I will continue to change in my coming years.  Embracing slow schedules has been one thing I've come to truly value.  Some call it a sabbath, others describe downtime, I've learned to love our Slow Day. 

The art is to carve out blocks of time doing nothing that feels like work.  The nuance is to do the necessary work without the pressures of time constraint and schedule.