In Good Faith Column: Slow Down
And the results of our population poll!
We’ll get to a column by MaryAnne Brown in a moment, but first, let’s look at the results (for far) from yesterday’s poll.
If you missed yesterday’s post and would like to vote in the poll, it’s here.
While, perhaps our e-newsletter readers are slightly more future-thinking than our print readers, the results of the poll are big enough to make a statement.
So what will our local government leaders, our Chambers of Commerce, do to get more early- and mid-career people to move to our region? So that local businesses can get more customers, the schools more pupils to fill emptying seats, the fire departments to get more vols?
It’s easy to complain, but maybe a big meeting needs to be held on this subject. Perhaps the newspaper can sponsor it.
In Good Faith Column: Slow Down
By MaryAnne Brown
Journal & Press
Early this week, I stepped outside into the crisp air, only to find two robins standing ankle-deep in freshly fallen snow. They stood there, their heads tilted, their bright eyes scanning the cold world around them. Their usual springtime cheer seemed muted by confusion, as if they were asking, “Did we come back too soon? Where is the warmth? Where is the world we expected?”
I couldn’t help but respond — in the way one does when alone in the quiet of morning and the company of creatures. I chirped back to them, in my best human attempt at reassurance: “I know. It’s cold. But hold on, Spring is on her way. She’s just running a little late.”
The robins’ puzzled presence feels like a mirror for many of us. How often do we, too, find ourselves out of step with the world’s timing, caught between what we hoped for and the reality in front of us? In a culture driven by instant answers and overnight shipping, by productivity apps and deadlines, it’s easy to expect that everything — including nature, healing, growth, or change — should happen quickly and on our schedule. However, nature tells a different story.
One of my favorite lines of ancient wisdom comes from the Taoist philosopher Lao Tsu: “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” The robins will not rush the snow to melt, nor can the flowers be forced to bloom ahead of their time. Seasons unfold according to rhythms much older and wiser than ours. And though nature moves slowly, everything still gets done.
That message seems especially wise in a world that rarely slows down. This is why I find myself returning to a particular piece of music whenever my soul feels weary and scattered. The Norwegian singer Sissel offers a hauntingly beautiful rendition of the sacred song “Slow Down.” Composed by Chuck Girard, its simple melody and powerful lyrics invite the listener to pause and listen not just with the ears, but with the heart.
The real invitation begins with the lyrics that speak to how we may feel amid the world’s noise:
“In the midst of my confusion,
in the time of desperate need,
When I am thinking not too clearly
A gentle voice does intercede.”
The song goes on to offer a gentle refuge from the chaos and the real invitation to “Slow down” begins with the refrain. Listening becomes a prayer in itself — one that calls us back to a place of calm and clarity, reminding us that rest is not a luxury, but a necessity for a healthy spirit of goodness; prompting us to care for the soul.
“Slow down, be still…and wait, on the Spirit of the Lord.
Slow down and hear His voice and know that He is God.”
This season, both nature and faith traditions are calling us to slow down. For our Jewish neighbors, the arrival of Passover marks a time of deep reflection on freedom and deliverance, recalling an ancient journey from bondage to new life. For Christians, Holy Week unfolds the profound and humbling story of suffering, death, and resurrection — a reminder that the most meaningful transformations are not rushed, but take place through waiting, stillness, and trust.
These sacred observances invite us to step away from the relentless pace of the world to make space for gratitude, prayer, and quiet remembrance. These small moments during a service at our church, temple, mosque or out in nature can help us recenter our souls amid the bedlam.
We don’t need a special season or a grand plan to slow down. We only need to notice the robins, to listen to a quiet song, to let the heart rest for just a moment. In doing so, we give our spirit the gift of renewal.
As I reminded the robins — Spring will come, whether we worry or not. Nature will move at its own pace, and we are invited to do the same.
Let me leave you with a simple blessing, whether you believe in God, in the Great Spirit of
Native Americans, or in the quiet wisdom of life itself:
Holy One, Known or Unknown,
Slow us down.
In the rush of our days, remind us:
there is more to life than the list,
more to us than what we do.
Let stillness find us. Let silence steady us.
Let kindness — to ourselves and to others — become the rhythm we walk by.
Whether we name You or only wonder,
teach us to tend the quiet places within,
where the soul rests, heals, and grows.
Amen.
MaryAnne Brown, RN, BSN, MA is a music minister at St. Joseph’s Church and has a special interest in spirituality and health. She serves on the Retreat Team at Dominican Retreat and Conference Center in Niskayuna and provides grantwriting services.
And Now for the Comics — ‘Animal Crackers’ by Mike Osbun
More tomorrow!
Just beautiful!