The Case for Walking Slowly

Every morning for ten years I took the same route to the station, eyes on the pavement, thumb on my phone. Last spring a burst water main closed the road and forced me down a lane I had never noticed.

There was a door painted the colour of marmalade. A woman watering geraniums nodded at me as though I had always been there. Slowness is not about speed; it is about being available.

You cannot be surprised by a place you refuse to look at.

Now I leave twenty minutes early on purpose. I arrive a little less efficient and a lot more awake.