It’s so easy to get used to speed.
I experienced it with my motorbikes.
The first one was an entry bike, as they call them.
Not too overpowering, even if it had the same acceleration as an expensive sports car.
In the beginning, I was very cautious. It felt very fast to mee.
But after a while, I get used to it, and I started needing something more.
The reason I told myself was that I needed more power to enjoy a long trip in two.
So, I got a bigger and more powerful one.
You get where I’m going.
From that one, I went to an even more powerful and sporty motorbike.
Speed is addictive; at least it is for me.
Then one day I decided to get a small Vespa.
Almost twenty times less potent than my motorbike at the time.
It was only meant for daily commuting. In the end, where can you go with such a small engine?
One summer, my partner and I slowly travelled for two weeks across Italy, with the bags, two sleeping bags and a tent.
All on that Vespa.
One of the most memorable experiences in our life.
This morning I was listening to this famous song by Morcheeba, “Rome wasn’t built in a day“, and it made me think.
Some things take time.
In many aspects of my life, I often get hungry for speed.
I want something, and I want it now.
Technology had almost cancelled the distance between wanting something and getting it.
One click on Amazon and the product is yours.
One click on Netflix and the movie starts.
If you want to know something, a quick search on Google and you can find everything you want to know.
The risk is to miss out on the pleasure of the journey, the creative potential of the space in-between desire and achievement, begin and end.
When I feel the urge to get something or to arrive somewhere, I go back to that slow trip with my underpowered Vespa.
And I remind myself of the beauty of slowing down.