This is one of my favorite absurd sayings. It points out how far overboard we can go in trying to speed up life and get things over with. I often find myself rushing to finish things for no other reason than a feeling that it is important to get things done as quickly and efficiently as possible. It’s almost a cardinal value of North American culture that faster is better.

This evening I was walking somewhere, and I decided to walk as slowly as I could reasonably walk. I took maybe twice the time I usually would have, since ordinarily I walk as speedily as I can, out of habit if nothing else. But I actually realized how enjoyable it is to walk. It’s an inherently slow way of getting from place to place, and so there’s no way to avoid enjoying the weather and the scenery as you go. It’s like going around corners in a car or train. You have no choice but to slow down or you’ll be jolted very uncomfortably. Maybe every day needs a certain number of slow tasks—a certain amount of “between” time—to prevent the frenetic pace from derailing the train.