4 minute read
Wake Up, Slow Down, Repeat · Wiktoria Gucia
Wake Up, Slow Down, Repeat.
Written by Wiktoria Gucia · Artwork by Nell Wedgwood
Advertisement
I am not your usual type of ‘sleepwalker.’
In fact, my symptoms do not fit the definition of ‘sleepwalking’ in any way. Yet, somehow, when I pace the populated streets of London my instincts shut down. It’s almost as if when I step out of my snug, comfortable space (also referred to as my overpriced London flat) my body decides to restart itself. Determined to make it from point A to point B, I often walk so hurriedly that I don’t realise when I cross the street.
Recently, I took five minutes to myself to scroll through my Instagram feed and I came across a TikTok that I more than related to: a New Yorker sarcastically telling tourists to practise fast-walking before coming to the city: “set the treadmill to five miles per hour”, she jokes. Initially, I chuckled to myself at the situational irony of life in the metropolis. But my amusement was quickly dismantled when, browsing a bookshop window later that day, I noticed a dull, simple phrase written on a bright orange book.
slow down.
To my disappointment, when I finally had the chance to Google this book, it turned out to be an economic and historical analysis of our world. Honestly, I could have expected this judging by the title: Slowdown, The End of the Great Acceleration – and Why It’s Good for the Planet, the Economy and Our Lives would unlikely be the wellbeing manifesto that I expected. But I didn’t have to read any self-care book to realise that the simple words ‘slow down’ were meant for me. So I wrote them down, in capital letters, inside my Winnie-the-Pooh notebook which I continuously use as a form of self-care with inspirational quotes and random doodles.
The next day, I was back to racing to my lectures and overtaking all the people that dared to walk slowly and appreciate the beauty of the world around them. Apparently, I didn’t listen to my midweek revelation, and even the words in my notebook didn’t help to change my ‘grind mindset.’
I couldn’t escape the sleepwalker state of being and I wanted to understand why:
Why could I never take time for myself? Why did I always feel like I have done nothing? Why was I turning into a well-oiled machine rather than becoming a mature and empathetic adult?
The answers to these questions didn’t come easily. In an era where success is defined by non-stop work and productivity above all costs, my ‘grinding’ was admired by the people around me. Waking up at 7am everyday to run a 5k, putting on fashionable clothes to head out of the house by 9am, and always being ready to tick everything off a long ‘to do’ list, often made my friends envious of my motivation. By the end of my second year at university, I had achieved everything I had aimed for, but I was exhausted. During summer, I found that I couldn’t stop and just exist. There was no me without work. I’m now aware that what I was experiencing was a simultaneous cultivation of burnout and toxic productivity.
Remember the treadmill TikTok mentioned earlier? Ironically, it was whilst running at the gym (hungover and on two hours of sleep) where I finally heard the words that I’ve been afraid to hear since my, now forgotten, ‘slow down’ moment:
These were the words of Tricia Hersey, also known as the founder of The Nap Ministry – a place that, until now, I could never see myself attending. In the podcast, Hersey details her own enlightenment in being too tired to continue working. Despite social norms pushing her to ‘power through’ her extreme fatigue, Hersey would end up falling asleep at any appropriate occasion to give her body what it eagerly wanted: rest. It seems like an unquestionable truth that taking time out for yourself is essential in advancing both mental and physical health, but doesn’t it seem strange that we are all given only two days to do this? In her book, Rest is Resistance: A Manifesto, Hersey addresses the different ways in which our current system has made us ignore any signs that our bodies send us, prioritising productivity and an ever-present need for success above our own desires.
Just last month, a friend of mine boasted about being offered a full-time position at a prestigious investment bank. But don’t be fooled, she didn’t take it. After spending her summer coming into the office at 9am and not being able to leave until nearly midnight (with the benefit of being offered a free Uber Eats and an Uber ride home by the bank) she realised that she disconnected with the world around her – she joined what I now like to call the ‘sleepwalking club’.
Meanwhile, I have decided that I’m no longer part of this capitalism-fuelled ‘club.’ I’ve started taking naps; I don’t run at 7am because my body hated it; I daydream about anything and everything. I managed to slow down. Admittedly, I often get anxious about doing ‘nothing’. But then I remember that the ‘nothing’ is opening up my mind to fresh ideas, making me look at people on the street with curiosity, allowing me to connect with my body. By doing this, I pride myself in knowing that no one will ever make me into a machine, and I suggest you slow down with me.
