The slow food movement is about taking time to prepare good, clean, food from local ingredients and food sources, and educating people on taste and the nutritional benefits of natural food.  In the time it takes to craft a fresh, healthy meal, time itself is subdued by the process. There’s no rush to get there and the result is exactly what the body—and the mind and the spirit—needs.

A strange connection has formed in my mind; what else is too fast in our lives? Social media, for one, requires a constant vigilance; everyone is in a rush to report. In this flood of instant communication, the fastest and most prolific win attention and popularity.  Even blogging requires constant updates to get those good Google rankings. It’s share, share, share—24/7.

What’s driving this race? If online presence translated to immediate financial reward, it would be understandable. I imagine there are those reaping rewards, but there are just as many who are racing, and not winning. Does answering a business call during dinner translate to success? Is tweeting that you were at an event more important than your attention to the event? Is a Google+ post worth the hour it took to search out the content?

For some, perhaps it is.

I look at the Occupy movement as a part of the “slow” movement. Organizers went to parks, and sat down. Time will tell whether this movement creates positive change, but Occupy has certainly garnered attention, thoughtful analysis, and it has had an effect on the politics of the day, if not the policies as of yet.

I am an advocate of slow, a fan of all things organic. And within those processes, all knowledge, awareness, content, and ideas take their time to ripen. When an idea is ready, it can move with incredible speed, taking hold and spreading like wildfire. But for that to happen, sometimes, you just have to wait; you have to go slow.

I prefer to share when I’m ready.  I write when I have something to say. And in my creative process, I know I have to take the time to let ideas simmer and cook before they’re ready for consumption. I don’t want to be in a race. I’m walking, observing, and reporting when I feel there’s something to report, and when I believe I have the unique voice to report it.

While we’d all love it to be spring forever—and experience that rush of sap flowing through the trees and flowers blooming in a riotous burst of color—the truth is: all things have their season.