Tortoise

I like speed. Within some reasonable parameters, I consider it a virtue. This is not specifically talking about driving a vehicle, but about generally being fast - in thought and in action. There is inherent relativity in the concept of speed, between individuals as well as between cultures. Different cultures may ascribe different values to ‘fast’. A mail forward that I had read long back talked about how decision making tends to be slow in Scandinavian  companies. That it is usual to take a year to decide on a particular aspect, not because of lethargy but because of the process and deliberations involved. Despite these examples, I think speed is a revered trait across civilisations. Speed is the essence of competitive spirit, which is the cornerstone of human society. I cannot think of any sport which awards the slowest.

In the environment I have grown in, speed is unequivocally a virtue. It is ingrained in the psyche to be fast, as fast as possible, to relentlessly pursue speed. It is hard to think of any situation which would require one to be slow, possibly only in speech. But I am referring to specific community or family biases. Thus I have grown up ingrained with continued focus on speed. This I have adopted in almost all aspects. And it has become an endless endeavour - to be faster.

In some aspects, I am proud of my speed - my walking speed, my eating speed, speed in softwares like Excel. I have found few people who could match my walking speed. Often when walking with somebody, I tend to get ahead and then check over my shoulder to make sure the person is not too far behind. I find it rude but have not been able to help it. I am sure it is demeaning to anybody, but I presume that at least my family members understand. Similarly I tend to eat quite fast, the matter being topic of much discussion on office lunch table. And I enjoy floating my fingers over the keyboard. In all these instances, one corollary is that I easily get disgusted with people with relatively slower speed - I find it such a waste of time when people walk slowly, or take long to finish their meals, when my subordinates take so much more to finish an assignment when I could have done it in half the time. Or when people of the vintage which has acquired computer skills much later in life, type in hunt and peck style, or press each command with mouse instead of using keyboard shortcuts (press Copy - minimise window - maximise another window - press Paste instead of Ctrl+c - alt+tab - Ctrl+v). I tend to remain edgy in all these instances. I feel like I am a ticking time bomb.  

But there is one area where speed is a concern - in conversation. This manifests in two ways - trying to preempt the other person’s thoughts, and in speaking rapidly. When in discussion with somebody I try to foresee another person’s argument before he has made it and start giving my arguments even before he has finished. So I get restless when somebody is make laboured points. Most often I end up interjecting, with my mind saying “yeah, yeah I know what you want to say”. And then I speak fast, again with a ticking timer in my mind, under the impression that the window of the other person’s attention is fast closing (as is the case with me) and I have to finish quickly.

Speaking too fast has been an innate trait. But it has been further entrenched due to all the Group Discussion coaching I took for my MBA admission. These GDs were proper gabfest where the only agenda of each participant is to outdo others in terms of the air time taken, irrespective of the content. There is an urgent need to be heard and people tend to go over the top. So people like me who have feeble voice and non-aggressive, non-smart temperament had to find some space. This meant almost interjecting others, waiting for a lull and pouncing on it. There has been a gradual conditioning and I have developed Pavlovian responses. A lull in conversation makes me uncomfortable. If timed, I am sure I would not be able to handle more than two seconds of silence. I start twitching. I am a terrible conversationalist.

This apart, I have liked my speed in most things. I have enjoyed doing things fast, it makes me feel confident and optimistic. But now I am in the process of absorbing a new realisation - that speed is not important, or rather, being slow is better. A lot of things are driving me to this thought. Foremost is my physical and mental struggle with anxiety. What I have experienced in the last few months are levels of anxiety which affect the health. And when you are going through an experience or a thought process, you tend to consciously or subconsciously gather information pertaining to it.

I read about Sudarshan Ramakrishnan, MD in Goldman Sachs, India, a top level position in the field of finance which is likely to entail stress. He admitted to having anxiety issues for more than 10 years. And the way he has described it is: “Anxiety is when your body reacts to outward stimuli with a fight and flight response. My body tends to go into protective mode under natural stimuli." Importantly what I am referring to here is a mental disorder and not a physical one. While physical repercussions may follow, but the root is the mental condition of ‘worrying too much.’ Reading this, I wondered how could a person with such a state rise to the level that he did. Then I read a Linkedin post about a person who is a trainer on managing stress and anxiety issues. This guy also had a panic attack 10 years back which led to a stint in hospital. The gist of his post was that a friend counselled him in hospital to the effect: “You need to slow down. Nothing is that important. Nothing is waiting for you. You possibly think too fast, or walk too fast which needs to stop. Walk slow, for once let the body drive the mind.” This idea resonated with me.

I am not saying that speed is the only cause of my anxiety. I know there are other factors but focus on speed is an important cause. Speed is inherently stressful on the mind and the body. Arianna Huffington is an author and businesswoman, with strong pedigree in the field of media, both print and television. She has campaigned for many causes, and her latest one is named Thrive. It is about “using scientifically proven methods to decrease stress and burnout and improve overall health, happiness and well-being” (10 years ago, Arianna herself collapsed due to exhaustion, and broke her cheek bone). While the initiative is directed towards corporates and I think has commercial interests, there were some suggestions which I read in an Arianna interview that made me take notice. Cutting through a lot of gyaan, relevant inputs were: “We don’t believe in work-life balance. The reason for that is it is not just work that stresses people, it is also what they are doing with their lives after work… People need to stop bragging about being busy. A lot of us are not conscious about our addiction to technology. We are living in what is known as the attention economy…. working to develop ‘Jomo’, the joy of missing out.”

The message here implicitly talks about slowing down, of not being over-charged. Most of us will link speed with ambition. Not being fast equates to being dull, lacking vigour. It is presumed that successful people (whatever success means) have to be fast. Because there is so much to be done, speed is essential. Multitasking is considered a must in the twenty-first century. This brings me to the lifestyles of some famous people that largely negates these arguments.

Charles Darwin: Charles Darwin published 19 books which includes On the Origin of Species. His everyday routine went like this: He would take a long walk and eat breakfast before 8 a.m. Then, he worked for 90 minutes in the study. Next, he'd go through his letters. Then he'd lie on the couch and have his wife Emma read out a novel. At 10:30 a.m., Darwin would head back to the study and work until noon. At this point, the remainder of his day would basically be work-free — more walks with his fox terrier, writing letters, reading the newspaper, more storytime with Emma, and eating meals.

G.H. Hardy: one of early 20th-century Britain’s leading mathematicians, he started his day with a reading of the cricket scores over breakfast, then focused on mathematics from 9 am to 1 pm. Tennis and long walks filled his afternoons. “Four hours creative work a day is about the limit for a mathematician,” Hardy said.

Charles Dickens: author of more than a dozen novels, he adopted a methodical and orderly schedule. From 9 am until 2 pm, he wrote in absolute quiet, with a break for lunch. After five hours, Dickens was done for the day.

Similar routines are attributed to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, W. Somerset Maugham, Anthony Trollope, Ingmar Bergman, Henri Poincare, Thomas Mann, and Mark Twain.

There are many lessons to draw from these examples. But the one most relevant to me is that a lot can be achieved in the given time. So why to hurry? One can overlook these examples by calling them geniuses but that would be missing the point. Agree, these are examples of a different era. That means this stress on speed has a lot to do with the present lifestyle. While this is a separate point of discussion, I believe it is possible to overcome the demands of the present times and maintain a languid routine and approach to life.

  

Now I mostly wonder, ‘why speed?’ What purpose is served by doing things quickly? There is so much time, so why hurry. I observe people who eat slowly as if pondering over each morsel, who speak with much deliberation. And I find them more clear headed. Speed seems to be unnatural, contrived, and mostly unnecessary. The natural state of nature and everything in it is more relaxed, almost languishing. Nature shows speed very infrequently - say in a predator chasing a kill, or in the fury of a river or waterfall, or in a volcano or a quake.

Hunt and peck is fine!