Downshifting
Downshifting
Forgetting the day of the week, I was invited by a friend to practice downshifting. First, we observed a three-toed sloth, the slowest mammal on earth. Later, we shifted our attention elsewhere because it did not seem slow enough. Then we gazed at some trees directly. Some of them appeared to be moving very fast. We focused our attention on the slowest ones. We put our ears on the chest and belly of those trees. If we heard sounds like eating, drinking, breathing, snoring, farting, sleeping, or dreaming, then we changed to the next.
During the period, one friend surprised us with a phone call to ask whether we felt cold or not, saying now the city down below is only nine degrees Celsius.
How come?
Here we see spring lingering and flowers blooming.
Suddenly, I remembered how I escaped the unexpected end of world last time.
How slowing down to ultra-slow had saved me. “This me” should be “that me” communicating.
As for the one listening to the tree, from where or how she came, it’s still a mystery.
I can only wait
As slowly as I can
for a
signal
unfolding itself
