Right now, my wife and I are driving a 26-foot Budget moving truck while towing a car across the country. I have no choice but to go slow.
Everything in my body wants to go 90 like everyone else, but I physically can’t. I max out at about 65 in this thing and even that isn’t permissible unless I want to risk a blowout on the trailer tires.
As frustrating as this is, the thing that’s really cool is I’ve had to give myself permission to go slow. Which is interesting. Because I’m usually in a car and everyone (including me) just... goes fast. It’s the nature of cars.
When you’re not going fast in a car, it’s easy to think that something is wrong with you. Like, why am I not going faster? And most everyone else seems to be thinking the same.
But when you’re in a big ass truck, you have to slow down. And everyone else understands. It’s the nature of big trucks.
There’s something powerful about granting yourself permission to go slow.
I want to start living more like a big truck. I want to take wider turns. I want to sit up higher, see more of the landscape, and cruise. Because when I give myself permission to go slow, life is fuller. Richer. And more free.
Even though, sometimes, it’s nice to get that car off the trailer and floor it.