The Magic of Slow.

THE WORK – About commitment, dedication and the productivity trap that tells us we can't go slowly and be all in at the same time.

With THE WORK I am sharing transmissions around mystical business, branding and co-creating a new paradigm on Earth. Today I share my view on the fast-pace manifestation myths, good old FOMO and a way of slow creation that feels much more aligned with life.

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It’s a New Moon. My astrology app and a substantial portion of my Instagram feed are banging on about intention setting, commitment and another very important chance to begin manifest those goals of mine. There’s a little rush of excitement spiralling up my spine, but it quickly turns into a contracting sensation in my chest. A pull inwards, maybe, or just the result of the thoughts that are bouncing around my mind? I should do more, work harder, actually manifest.

But do I even want to? Is now even the right time for me to do so?

How easy it is to slip into FOMO when the New Age space is throwing itself into manifestation frenzy and apparent one-off chances to get THE thing you dream of into your life.

How easy it is to climb onto the bandwagon, to do a manifestation ritual right now, and write down stuff you think you should want to manifest, even though there’s a little niggle inside that whispers yes, but not now. Or: yes, but slowly.

A word that drips like honey off my tongue these days. Its sweet, sweet taste challenging the bitterness of some of my thoughts that latch onto those old stories of productivity, time pressure and the rush to get everything done right now, ideally yesterday, actually.

I look inside my head, like into a storybook. Pages over pages that read like a broken record sounds: do more, do it now, don’t wait, don’t rest, do more, do it now… It’s what my young self had been taught: if you want something, you have to run towards it, and you have to start running right now, or it will be too late.

The idea you have will be realised by someone else, and you’ll miss out. The job you find interesting will go to someone who applied faster than you, and the chance will be gone. The book you want to write will have been written by someone else before you can even type the first word… So with that one, why even bother, you should’ve started writing at 15, or even better, you should’ve been born a century earlier, just to get ahead.

The memories make me shiver.

Observing those thoughts, those stories in that book of experience of mine. I feel compassion for the young girl that believed all of these things to be true. That my ideas, my dreams, could be taken away because I couldn’t manifest them into reality right the very minute they entered my consciousness.

I feel compassion for her, for all the times she believed herself to be a failure because she hadn’t been fast enough. Because she could never, ever do enough to outrun the fear of missing out. And I feel compassion for her body. The body she didn’t allow to take breaks, because she believed she’d run out of time, even if she paused for just one breath.

I cherish how this word fills my body up with peace.

Tasting the flavour of there is no rush on my tongue like a piece of dark chocolate that melts so slowly that my tastebuds can take its depth in on so many levels that the experience becomes poetry.

And I return to the New Moon.

Commitment, yes. But slowly. A few years ago I believed that commitment only counts when I act now. Work hard always. Produce outcomes immediately.

Now I hold the idea I am committed to gently in my hands. I don’t rush to make it real, for I don’t want to miss out on taking it all in. To listen to it fully. To let it unfold naturally. To watch it take form in my mind and soul, like a being that grows, shape shifts, blooms, all by itself, with just my love and patience and gentle attention.

I taste my idea, let it melt on my tongue like dark chocolate does, and each time I take in its flavour I can feel it deeper and more clearly.

Of course, the thoughts still come. Am I allowed to go this slowly? Will I lose out if I do?

I take a deep breath and look at my cupped hands. Like in a precious bowl I hold my idea, my creation. It is formless in the world we call reality, but of intricate design, wild beauty and soul-warming depth in the world unseen but felt.

This is how I work now. This is how Mystics for Future is being birthed. Slowly. Patiently. Awaiting its bloom when the time is right, while tending to the seeds I’ve sown in the other world with tender love and gentle care.

May the day of bloom come when the day of bloom comes.