Slowly, Slowly

One of the novel things for me about my week in Cabo was living at such a slower pace. It wasn't only that the pace of life at a resort is slow, it's that my two comrades in adventure are also wired at a slower tempo than I am.

When we reached our room, it took me about one minute, two tops, to unpack my suitcase and backpack completely. It took each of them half an hour, or so it seemed. When we packed to go home, it took me about two minutes, three tops, to repack my suitcase and backpack; it took them the better part of two hours. Of course they had vastly more stuff than I had. Anyone has vastly more stuff than I do.

They eat so slowly! I had to force myself not to finish my entire meal before they had even sat down at the table. They could take a whole hour just eating breakfast! And another whole hour just eating lunch! We spent two hours each day eating dinner.

But it was lovely to catch my breath, savor each moment, actually put down my fork between bites. It was a good experiment in living.

One day, with my mania for planning, I outlined all we needed to do that afternoon: play on the Internet for a bit, put on our swimsuits, go down to the pool for our paddling, have our late afternoon glass of wine.... Nancy said, "We'd better get cracking!" It became our funny mantra for the trip. Each day as we contemplated our long, leisurely hours to be filled with writing, reading, heartfelt conversations over meals, strolling round and round in the pool, we'd say, "We'd better get cracking!"

Sometimes it's good to get cracking very very slowly.