Tuesday, April 5, 2011
When I was younger I loved a wonderfully talented woman with a heart so huge that it could swallow all the ills of the world – given half a chance. We parted to follow our dreams and I often hoped we'd touch base later in life and share a few laughs. I learned last night that she took her life a few years ago.
Looking back, it seemed that time slowed down when I was with her. Little things meant more. A meal wasn't fast food but a chance to hope the waiter was slow to take our order. A drive in the country wasn't a bee-line to get from A to B but an opportunity for laughter, song and carry on and who the hell cared how long it took to get there? Creativity wasn't something fraught with worry but something to be playfully cherished. Smiles were magic. In times like these you want to stretch out the minutes, to make the most of them. To slow down time, to cherish the passions of life and to delay the moment when you have to part as much as you possibly can. This is Valentino Slow.
We all know that life can be cruel and sometimes it gets too fast for things to make sense. People are commodities in the fast paced world of wheeling and dealing. You're hot one moment and "who are you again?" the next. And sometimes, sensitive souls get bruised, or hurt or eaten. This doesn't happen when things go slow.
So I'm a slow lover.
If more of us took the time to go slow and love each other more, maybe we could stretch the time we have together.
Posted by Rand MacIvor at 6:50 PM