Slow Life
On the Fast Lane
Sydney, October 2024
TL;DR: Five months of nonstop travel and I found myself craving the one thing I ran from: a boring Tuesday. Turns out, novelty has diminishing returns – and routine might be the real adventure.
There & Back Again
After five months of hopping through Asia, I find myself back in the hemisphere of pleasant chatter, blindingly bright sun, and my long-lost cousin: a loaf of sourdough.
I know what you’re thinking: Australia! 🦘
Five months ago, I set foot in Asia with fresh eyes. Today, I return to this remote Western enclave with a renewed sense of gratitude. I didn’t truly appreciate the creature comforts of home until I’d spent months without them.
The clean air, the crisp spring weather, the absence of humidity that makes you question your will to live – just what my soul needed. No more rice; more sourdough. The warm embrace of the West.
After what felt like the 100th time packing my backpack, I found myself yearning for something radical: stillness.
The Fast Lane
Travel is exhilarating. It is also exhausting.
Every moment feels like a new adventure, and you’re living life at full throttle. After months of non-stop activity, I felt less like a traveler and more like a pinball. At what point was I traveling for travel’s sake?
There are only so many temples you can get excited about. The more I saw, the more desensitized I became. Eventually, even something truly spectacular elicited only a timid nod and a faint “meh.”
The law of diminishing returns applies to sunsets, too.
Now that I’ve spent a month in Sydney – standing still for the first time in forever – I’ve had enough time to collect my thoughts.
While digging into my arvo sordo toastie (avocado toast on sourdough, for the uninitiated), I wondered:
Everyone says novelty slows down time. But what if the opposite is also true?
Is chasing new experiences really the antidote to feeling like your life is slipping away? If so, why are most people perfectly happy to lay down roots and stick to a (dare I say boring) routine?
Maybe routine isn’t surrender. Maybe it’s strategy.
The world glorifies speed. We crave experiences that make our hearts race while simultaneously seeking the tranquility to catch our breath. When everyone around you is jumping on the New Experience Carousel, slowing down becomes a rebellious act.
Sometimes you need to hit pause to truly appreciate the movie.
Between Adventure & Routine
Coming clean: as much as this year has been an extended adventure, I wouldn't be able to sustain it without moments of slow life.
There were days when I found myself in a whirlwind of activity – checking in and out of hostels, hopping on dubious transportation, always hunting for the next meal. Life is what happens between meals, right?
In these moments, I realized that reflection isn’t always glamorous. It isn’t always staring at a sunset in Bali. More often, it is staring at the ceiling of a cheap motel room, wondering what day it is.
Back to the question: are new experiences really the only things that slow down time?
Yes and no.
Novelty slows down perception. When you are doing something new, your brain records every detail. Time feels thick. Routine speeds it up. When you are on autopilot, your brain stops recording. Time vanishes.
But this applies both ways. If you are stuck in a routine, travel slows time down. If you are stuck in the chaos of travel, routine slows time down.
Chilling on the couch can be just as novel for a jet-setter as cliff-jumping is for an accountant.
Embracing the Slow Life
This is where I landed: do-nothing days aren’t bugs in the itinerary. They’re features. A high-step-count day feels more special if it follows a day spent entirely horizontal. Variety is the spice of life, but rest is the plate.
The other thing that saved my sanity was replicating something familiar in unfamiliar territory. Cooking a meal, going for a run, finding a café that becomes “my café” – these small anchors made foreign cities feel conquerable. A home away from home.
The antithesis of the slow life is the Great Adventure. And just the right dose of chilling makes the adventures pop.
I’m currently living my best suburban life – some might call it the Australian Dream.
It’s not my dream; it’s a borrowed dream. I’ll have to give it back soon. But I know I’ll look back fondly on it, partly because I know it has an expiration date.
Do you know why the Australian coat of arms has a kangaroo and an emu? Neither animal can walk backwards. They can only move forwards.
But I’m sure even kangaroos know when to stop hopping and enjoy the grass.
For a moment I thought you were referring to Berti when you wrote "my long-lost cousin"...
1) Who's that wifey you're talking about?
2) The real wifey says you're welcome for the suburbia rides (and roasted chickenzzz).
3) We're kidnapping Liluli.