Slow Living in the City

Usually, when I think of slow living, I think of bread. Specifically, I think of the whole process of baking bread—the measuring, the mixing, the kneading and baking. I think of how much work it is compared to just picking up a loaf at the grocery store. How much time it takes. And how much more rewarding it is. All the extra work seems worth it when you smell the warm yeast scent drifting from the oven.

The thing is, I practiced what I consider slow living long before I baked my first loaf of bread—and even when I do bake my own bread, I’m not exactly spending hours slaving in the kitchen. I use the most low-effort, no-knead recipe I could find—a recipe I latched onto because its’s exactly the right speed for me. It’s just slow enough to give me the benefits I want out of baking, but it includes very few of the steps I find cumbersome and unenjoyable. 

Still, the impression remains that the most effortful way is, by default, the best way. Perhaps that’s because slow living started with slow food, a reaction against fast food, drive-thru culture. It was a rebellion against the relentless push to be faster, more efficient, more profitable. Always more and more and more, until people started thinking that too often “fast” meant “worse,” and just possibly, “slow” could mean “better.”

And if slow food was better food, then maybe a slow life would be a better life, because the forces that drive speed and efficiency and profit over conscientiousness, sustainability and quality aren’t limited to food. So the term “slow living” took off like a viral hashtag, and Instagram filled up with photos of ambles through hayfields, baskets full of apples, and yes, fresh-baked bread.

But is the absolute slowest way always the best way?

Instagram would have you think so. Browse #slowliving and you’ll see an endless stream of glowing summer afternoons in grassy fields, painstakingly-prepared picnic lunches, and fog rolling in over stone cottages. A deep dive into the slow living aesthetic will leave you believing that, not only do you have to bake your own bread to live slowly, you also should probably grow the wheat that goes into it (or, at the very least, have a personal relationship with the farmer) and grind it into flour by hand. It’s aspirational, I guess.

It’s also self-defeating. In the US, more than 10% of the country’s total population live in the Los Angeles and New York City metro areas alone. Adding in all the other cities across the country, 80% of Americans live in urban areas. In Europe, that number is around 75%. In Australia, it’s over 85%. If we continue to characterize  slow living as a lifestyle dependent on wide open spaces and views of horse pastures, we’re doing a disservice to the vast majority of people for whom it could make a huge difference…and who could make a huge difference to the planet by adopting it.

Slow living is for everyone. In fact, those of us who live in cities are the ones who could benefit most from slow living practices because, while cities can offer just as much slow joy as the countryside, they couple it with a greater temptation to take on too much, too fast. It’s easy to up the pace when you live in the city, but that doesn’t mean it’s hard to slow it down.

And slow living doesn’t have to be about baking your own bread or taking the time to pick apples at a local orchard. It’s about choosing a different pace for your life—one where you don’t feel frazzled by having too much to do in too few hours, where you can prioritize what you love over what causes you stress, where you allow yourself to enjoy moments instead of rushing from one thing to another. Sure, that could be spending an entire afternoon at the orchard, but it could also be going out dancing until the clubs close and capping the night with coffee at an all-night diner. It could be spending three hours in a single gallery at the art museum, or joining an afternoon soccer game at the park.

Slow living is being intentional with your time and allowing the space to live experiences to the fullest…and that’s possible no matter where you live (or how many hours you’re willing to devote to a loaf of bread).

Want to see how slow living looks in cities around the world? Check out my hashtag #myslowcity on Instagram. I share my favorite posts regularly, so use #myslowcity to show the slow life in your own city, and tag @from_jenn for a chance to be featured.