Lessons From The Slowdown

Like the new icon in my logo?! Big thank you to my designer Alicia Green.

Welp. I did it. I embraced the slowdown. I took a whole month off. And I went to Italy!

Welcome back, Neighbors! I’m back from my winter break and appreciate your support for the slowdown. I hope your own breaks were peaceful and included some joy.

Today I want to share what went right, what was restorative on my break, and what I hope to carry forward. As I said in my final note of 2022, our exhaustion will only be cured communally, so maybe sharing ideas on what is working for me will help you.

What Went Right

Have you ever seen that very relatable tweet that goes, “Me whispering into my green tea after one sip: You better fix my entire life, you gross b!#$%.”? LOL!

Along those lines, before I share what worked well for me, I want to acknowledge that taking a month off did not magically heal burnout or lead to a complete life transformation. My hair isn’t fuller and glossier. I’m not watching less TV or more toned now. It was helpful but not a miracle cure. (Those of you who joined me here from the AIP community already know I detest the “miracle cure” line.)

So, that’s the first thing that worked: My expectations were rationale. I thought a month off might, at worst, make no difference and, at best, lead to some sense of renewal. My prediction for the best outcome was right.

Lesson: We should be realistic about the benefits of embracing the slowdown.

The second thing that worked: I did not try to “work ahead.” (I almost did, though.) You can’t work ahead in every work setting, but in my setting and I’m willing to bet in quite a few of your settings, it’s easy to convince ourselves that we should work double time before (and probably after) a break so we can “relax during vacation.” WTF, Man!? I wrote about the problem this causes in my first note . . . it doesn’t lead to less stress, it just makes you too exhausted to enjoy your break.

My original blueprint for my winter break included using the first week off (the week before Christmas, no less) to pre-write and schedule every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday note that I’d miss in a month, so nobody would be disappointed that I wasn’t publishing anything new. But that was a ridiculous amount of work and a terrible idea from a creative standpoint. My husband talked me off the ledge.

Lesson: We should reject the lie that one can get ahead of work and “earn” a break.

The third thing: A schedule. Okay, I get that having a schedule for your break might either be received as, “A schedule? What a drag, Angie.” or alternately, “I always schedule, Angie. Duh.” Hear me out. I’m not talking about a blow-by-blow itinerary, as much as I am talking about prioritizing what will make you feel good.

I made sure there was room for a slow, chill holiday, including two dinners with friends (I’m serious about community investment!) + time to do some household projects I knew would make me feel good to complete (like cleaning and re-organizing our home office) + time to slowly prepare for and recover from travel.

Hello? Why do so many of us give ourselves eight seconds to pack for a trip, throw the suitcase in the corner when we return home, sleep a few hours (jet lag be damned), and then immediately start working again?

Well, capitalism, that’s why. The truth is that the luxury we all urgently deserve is time, but our system funnels the money that buys time to only a few at the top so that getting to have a whole day to prepare for a trip and a few days to readjust when you return home basically feels like breaking a law or a violation of Puritan values or something. I digress. We can explore this more on another day . . .

Lesson: Having a schedule of priorities for your time ensures you really get what YOU need from your break, however short or long.

The fourth thing: No social media. I’ve done the social media cleanse thing semi-regularly for a long time, but this is only the second or third time I’ve done it for a full month, and it felt different this time. I logged out, deleted the apps, and didn’t think about it. I was missing some of my friends in that space and wondering if they were doing well, but the benefit to my brain from being away was enormous. I really only want to use social media to share what I’m writing and cooking and see a few updates from friends, but social media wants to use me differently. I’m conflicted about re-engaging.

Lesson: A break is not just taking as many days as possible away from work; it’s also about quieting the background noise, so you can focus narrowly on the moment (and people) in front of you.

The Other Thing: Italy!

A few days ago, I told my friend, Rachel, “I’m evangelical now . . . in the Italian sense.” Hahaha! Seriously though, Italy was such a pleasure. And I know it’s a pleasure for nearly everyone who gets a chance to go, but this trip was mind-blowing for me as a celiac.

Photo by David Alt

Celiac disease officially impacts about 1% of Italians, but recent mass screening efforts of school-age children have found it may be closer to 1.6% of the population, and despite mass screenings, the prevalence of celiac disease in the country has more than doubled in the last 25 years. This percentage is like the celiac percentage in the US, but in a culture heavily focused on bread, pizza, and pasta, a celiac diagnosis is considered incredibly serious. That has resulted in super delicious gluten-free options everywhere and a very detailed and widespread understanding of safe food prep techniques. Food and hospitality are a craft, and the Italians don’t leave you out over an intestinal disease.

Photo by David Alt

For the first time in over a decade, I felt completely safe eating while traveling. I trusted all the servers, chefs, and kitchen staff to take care of me without feeling like I was inconveniencing them or like I had to awkwardly give them a crash course in GF food prep. Before my diagnosis, our family was living and traveling overseas, but it became unrealistic (at the time) due to how severely debilitated and limited I was by celiac. I have traveled in the interim, but this trip to Italy brought so much of my old self to life again. I’m not ashamed to say that I cried a few times. Including at the table, in front of bowls of pasta.

More Than Food

It wasn’t just the food, though . . . I found myself speechless. Often. The whole country is basically an archeological site. Around every corner is a time machine. The landscape and people are beautiful. Every view was gorgeous, and we didn’t encounter a single person who wasn’t kind and welcoming.

The first part of the trip was in Rome, where we met my best friend and her family and toured the sites. There were A LOT of people, partly due to the holidays and partly due to the death of Pope Benedict, but people remained friendly and patient. I laughed so much with our friends and found myself endlessly patient with and endlessly entertained by her hilariously chaotic four-year-old son.

Photo by David Alt

The last part of the trip was in Tuscany. We stayed in a tiny, 13th-century village in a converted monastery run by the sweetest husband and wife caretakers. It was quiet and unhurried. We listened to the birds and took long naps. My friend, Michael, who immigrated to Italy a year ago, also introduced us to some special wineries in the region. Delightful. To say the least.

Imagine It

All of that was so special. I’m so grateful we got to experience every minute of it, but what really stood out for me is that Italians seem to have slow built right into their culture and a natural outpouring of that is community care. They have time and energy to replenish themselves and care for each other. I didn’t plan a trip to Italy specifically looking for that, but I found it everywhere.

Even in Rome, I saw people walk into shops and take time to chat with the shop owners in a way that made it obvious they had cultivated real relationships. In Tuscany, we spent one night with colleagues of my husband. They took us to their local bar (situated in a gas station!), where everyone greeted them, and it was clear that connection is a focus. The owner of a restaurant in one Tuscan village chatted with us about the family-run business, the luck he had to marry his wife, an award-winning chef, and even his sorrow that it rarely ever snows there now compared to his childhood. He made time for us to share a vulnerable moment of climate change grief.

That American

I don’t want to be that American. You know what I’m talking about . . . the person who spends 10 days in Europe and then complains for the next 10 years about the United States. As though the country they visited has no flaws and life there is a fairytale compared to the utter horrors of American life (not denying there are many). The truth is that Italy has issues (they just elected an anti-immigrant fascist president, for one*), and the US has some bright spots (have you heard Hakeem Jefferies speak yet?).

One of my social justice educators, Dr. Tee Williams, once said in a class discussion, “Imagination is the first thing you lose in an oppressive system.” I don’t want to be that person, but Italy IS different in some positive ways that helped me imagine.

One of the oppressive qualities of the American system is that our culture is built around increasing speed and a natural consequence of that is an extreme lack of community care. Italy let me imagine how it could be different.

The lesson here is: If you can include in your break some time outside of your familiar surroundings (even just a day trip to the next city over), you might find something unexpected, something that allows you to imagine different ways of being.

Going Forward

I thought a lot about the decisions I made and actions I took over my winter break that resulted in the most restoration. I’m hoping to carry aspects of all my lessons forward with me, but I’ll especially be concentrating on moving slowly enough to include intentional community care. Now that I have had a chance to observe another culture practicing it, I’m even more convinced that “slow, small, and simple” is the restorative prescription we all need.

Did you enjoy a winter break? Find anything unexpected in that time or a “lesson” to share with the neighborhood? Are my own winter break lessons resonating with you?

P.S. I changed some, like inside, during my break. And I recognized some things I needed to change at Notes from a Neighbor too. I’m reintroducing myself with a few updates on my About page and sharing a new photo that fits better where I’m at right now. I also won’t be sharing a regular Thursday note anymore. Three newsletters a week in your inboxes is a lot to keep up with for you and me! I hope the extra space will give us more time to connect in deeper weekly conversations. 

*The author, Ruth Ben-Ghiat, of The Atlantic article I shared on Italy’s new president, also writes on Substack. You can find her at

Lucid

. She is a Professor of History (specifically authoritarianism and propaganda) and Italian studies at NYU. I follow experts like her so I can better understand fascist movements. Community care is also practicing awareness about the threats to your community.