Sunday afternoon, 12:36 pm. The sun shines and the air is polluted, though somewhat cooler than usual. I slept in this morning. Miss Dot didn’t even wake me. I rose, willingly, at 9:45 am and began the day after generous and joyful snuggles with Miss Dot. I put on real clothes, gathered myself, and went to my neighborhood coffee shop. This has become a regular ritual for me, an impetus to get me out of bed, out of my pajamas, and out into the world. I dressed myself with intention, which felt nice and isn’t something I often do these days.
At the coffee shop I sit under the tree in my “outdoor office” and talk to an herb school peer, E, about an assignment we’re wrapping up. Earlier in the week I’d cut my finger pretty badly on a can and had to go to urgent care. I’d dropped a note about it in my school Discord group, asking for herbal suggestions for care. She’d seen the message and asked me about my finger. I told E that it was healing well and that I’m grateful it wasn’t worse. She proceeded to share a bit about her own health scare that also happened the same day as I cut my finger, both of us sort of musing on running into health issues and being forced to really look at the reality of our lives and bodies. For me, my finger cut was more than just a finger cut. It was a sign from maybe the universe or my body to slow down, to pay attention.
On Monday, I went from work to a meeting with E about our group assignment, to trying to prepare some snacks for a dear friend’s birthday picnic. I stood in my kitchen, flustered after a string of seemingly endless daily tasks, and thought “I should take Dot on a walk, take a break, and come back before I begin making food.” Intuitively I knew I needed to slow down and take a breath. But I pushed through, wanting to get everything prepared and THEN take Dot on a walk. In pushing through, I made an unwise decision, and fussed with a tricky can of garbanzo beans which resulted in me severely cutting my finger. Certainly the worst cut of my life. I gasped and immediately grabbed my finger and walked to my neighbor’s house and knocked on his door. He answered and I asked if he could look at the cut and tell me if I needed to go to urgent care. He took a look and then, being the angel that he is, told me he’d drive me.
Driving to urgent care, I held my finger and took deep breaths. My neighbor, Ally, was surprised I didn’t go into shock. He told me how he’s seen multiple people with finger cuts go into shock in the past. I was honestly proud of myself for how composed I was, but I imagine, looking back, that part of it was because I felt supported by someone, sweet Ally, through it all. At the urgent care, I told Ally he could just drop me off and I could take a car back home, but he offered to stay. He’s always offered me such kindness.
After some back and forth with the nurses, they decided it was best to glue my cut shut. What followed from there was a bit of a frustrating and comical ordeal, in which one nurse glued her glove to my hand and accidentally reopened the wound, but eventually all was well and I was sent on my way. All week I have nursed my finger, taking great care to keep it clean and let it heal. It is fascinating to watch the body regenerate. To consider how delicate our physical form is and yet how miraculous the body is. On the call with E this morning, we spoke of the miracle of the body. How it’s wild that any of us are here at all and, for the most part, intact and mostly functioning to various degrees.
For at least a few weeks now I’ve been choosing to wear my necklace with the word “slow” dangling from it. I had this necklace made for me maybe 5 or so years ago when I’d decided “slow” would be my word of the year, this necklace serving as a daily reminder to embrace slowness. Again, I’ve been needing this reminder and the necklace clearly wasn’t enough for me to take it to heart…hence, The Great Finger Cut of 2025.
Ever the person who learns things the hard way (and repeatedly), this cut was apparently part of what was needed for me to really listen to myself and to intentionally find more ways to slow down throughout each day. The pace of life is just beyond comprehension to me these days. Slowing down feels absolutely vital and necessary to my health, survival, and happiness - and a way to push back against the excessively quick pace of the world. In slowness, I refuse to comply with the status quo.
I’m a Taurus sun after all. I do not like to rush. I like to move slowly, leisurely. All this rushing and quickness simply goes against my nature and natural inclinations. I’d argue, despite your sun sign, it goes against your nature, too. But we’ve all been conditioned to keep up. For most of us out of necessity and maybe for some of us, out of choice. But I am growing more resolved in my refusal to try and keep up. I am saying no, I am trying to move from my center, to be realistic with what I ask of my body, and to honor the limitations of this vessel as much as I can.
One thing that’s been weighing on me heavily lately is all the ways the pace of life, and it’s demands, are affecting my relationships. I can’t seem to respond to messages or calls in any sort of “timely” manner and I feel immense guilt and worry building up in me around this. I’ve tried to communicate to the people in my life, as best I can, that I am overwhelmed and struggling to keep up. My hope is that everyone understands and isn’t taking my distance or communication personally, but I worry that might not be the case for everyone. I worry that people are quietly frustrated or disappointed with me despite trying to communicate where I’m at. Sky Fusco of Lord Cowboy wrote about this a bit today and I felt so seen in what they shared. Here’s an excerpt, but I highly recommend reading the full essay.
“What I love most about my friends taking eons to text me back—emergencies and crash-outs aside—is the idea that even if they aren’t lounging in a shady patch of a Mexican beach with Mango juice dripping down their forearms, I know they’ve reclaimed agency over their own attention span and accessibility. For a brief spell, I am relieved to know that someone, somewhere, is the master over their device, and not the other way around.” - Sky Fusco
May we all offer up this type of grace and generosity to one another.
There is so much more to be said on the subject of slowness for me, but perhaps I've said what is necessary to say today. As I lean into my time off of social media, I do feel life slowing down a bit. I simultaneously feel so much bubbling up that has been shoved down and pushed to the side to accommodate the relentless noise and inundation of nonstop information that comes with scrolling. Minimizing input is always fairly life altering in my experience, both in big and small ways. Right now I’m noticing my dreams returning with more vividness, which is a welcome gift. I’m also noticing lots of little songs emerging in tidbits here and there. Songs only really come to me in quiet moments - on long drives or creek side meditations and the like. Between the dreams and songs trickling through, it feels like my connection to spirit - my own and those of the unseen - is strengthening, rekindling. Reminding me of that thread, that invisible tether that is always there, linking me to the great magical mystery that resides both inside and outside me, casting a net of wonder and awe around my life. Life continues to shimmer, despite it all.
Thank you for reading this rambling that felt like magic to write out and share.
I wish you moments of slowness and awe in the week ahead.
SLOW SUPPORT
Ways to invoke and inspire slowness.
Listen to Adrianne Lenker, Squirrel Flower, or Free Range
Sit by a tree with a book of poetry (here’s what I’m currently reading)
Make yourself a cup of tea and sit quietly as you drink it (always happy to talk tea and offer up herbal suggestions!)
Take a leisurely stroll down new streets
Watch Microcosmos (maybe get a little stoned before if you’re into that sort of thing)
Send a voice note to a friend where you slowly share a life update or maybe just narrate what’s happening in the world directly in front of you at that time
Thank you to the handful of folks who made the intentional effort to support my herb school fundraising efforts after sending out this week’s update! Three folks sent through $100 collectively, which means I only need about $135 to cover August’s tuition payment. I’ll continue to share fundraising efforts and updates, most likely on a monthly basis moving forward. As always, thank you for your loving attention.
Thank you for reading Extra Tender Dispatch! All my writing is accessible for free and likely always will be. If you’d like to show your support for my work, feel free to Venmo a donation of any amount to @vanwardy ❤️
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