Slowing down is difficult.

I always thought it would be easy. We spend a lifetime idealizing long vacations or imagining our existence free from obligations, schedules, and professional commitments. Having more free time to do everything we enjoy or simply to do absolutely nothing. Let he who has never counted holidays and long weekends on the calendar or dreamed of early retirement speak up.

I remember my father, he spent years waiting for his retirement date and, when it finally arrived, he couldn't cope with the new reality. He went back and worked for another 2 or 3 years until he managed to make the necessary adjustment. Not only the physical one, but the psychological one as well.

I don't think it's something exclusive to age. Especially if we live at such a fast pace. I've spent the last few years trying to figure out the best strategy to slow down without being idle. And I confess I've encountered some challenges.

We are too constrained by a society that values productivity and employment models almost exclusively formatted for the labor market.

We do other things when, and if, we have some time left over, and there isn't always any, is there?

So why is it so difficult?

One would expect that, having more free time, we would have no difficulty filling it with everything we want to do when we don't have it. In the vast majority of cases, experience tells us otherwise, and here are some of the reasons why:

1. Routine — we have the same routines for many years, and the body "records" this dynamic of schedules, routes, rituals, and interpersonal interactions. When we try to slow down, it's not enough to simply make that decision. There's an automatic response that continues to pull us back to the previous rhythm, almost as if we were always "behind." And this often causes anxiety.

2. Identity — We are socially encouraged to associate personal value with career growth and progression. When we choose not to follow this path, we sometimes feel like we are falling behind. Not because we are, but because our points of reference remain the same.

3. Comparison — we remain embedded in the same context where others continue to accelerate. Promotions, new projects, full schedules. Even when we are sure of our choice, there are moments when this comparison arises and makes us question: "Should I be doing more?"

4. The structure — slowing down doesn't mean switching off. We continue to work, to deliver, to be responsible. But without the constant "push" of external ambition, it's necessary to build a new way of organizing time and energy, more aligned with what is truly most important right now.

5. Permission — perhaps this is the most difficult. Giving ourselves permission not to maximize everything. Not to turn every interest into a goal. Not to optimize every hour of the day. To choose a pace that, from the outside, may even seem "less," but that makes more sense on the inside.

6. Energy — living at a fast pace for too long creates an almost permanent state of alert. Slowing down isn't just a rational decision; the body needs time to readjust. And this process can bring restlessness, fatigue, or even a strange feeling of guilt for "not being productive."

7. Fear — It's not just a habit, it's also fear. Fear of not doing enough, of compromising our safety, of not guaranteeing our long-term livelihood. And this fear, silent but persistent, pushes us back to the pace we are actually trying to leave behind.

   
   

   It's not just about slowing down. It's about consciously stepping away from a model that has been presented to us as the "right" way. And that requires more than intention; it requires practice, consistency, and above all, confidence.

   
   

   And in the midst of all this, learning that slowing down is also a way to move forward.

How can nature help us?

Nature teaches us the balance between action and pause.

Just observe: nothing in nature is in constant acceleration. There are cycles, pauses, moments of expansion and contraction. The seasons don't compete with each other, plants don't grow faster due to external pressure, and even the most dynamic ecosystems respect periods of regeneration.

Slowing down isn't stopping, it's alternating. It's creating space to recover and adjust our pace. It's up to us to learn how to translate this into concrete and consistent practices. Because slowing down isn't an event, it's a skill—and, like any skill, it needs to be trained, adjusted, and incorporated to become truly sustainable.

And it is precisely here that this theme intersects with the Nature Connection Specialist Course. It is not enough to facilitate slowing-down processes as a one-off experience or an isolated moment. It is necessary to know how to sustain them over time, to integrate them into real life, within the context of our routines.