Slow in the periphery
Slow means different things to different people. That’s also what Susan Radstrom discussed in her latest blog entry “The corporate side of slow” here in SlowPlanet. I’ve been having the same kind of thoughts lately and couldn’t agree more. There is a corporate level of slow that comes to life via organisations and movements (Cittaslow, SlowFood, International Institute for Not Doing Much, etc). And there is an individual way of slow thinking that appears in the way people think, feel and act. But there is also a common denominator to the two sides (besides the word “slow”) and that, I believe, is quality. Be it great food, people we love or a job that gives us complete satisfaction.
I, myself, come from and live in Estonia - a small country on the Eastern border of Europe. This geopolitical location is actually extremely challenging - to be the link between the East and the West. This is the kind of peculiarity that does not only exist on the map but also in the minds of the people. No matter how badly we want to belong to the Western community, we will always have one foot on the other side. That is also what I believe makes the Slow movement in Estonia a bit different than it might be in the Western European countries.
For a while now, almost 20 years, Estonia has been an independent country and for five years we have enjoyed the fruits from the garden of the EU. Nothing stopped us from truly believing that we were indeed an equal partner to the rest of the Western world. Life seemed to get better each day and nothing was impossible - more workplaces were created, cities grew and streets filled with tourists.
Until…
… as a part of the global economic environment the crisis knocked on our door as well. Tens of thousands of people have lost their jobs (which in a country of 1.4 million is quite high), banks are filled with troubled debtors and sales numbers are decreasing in every sector you can think of. The bubble we lived in has now burst.
In the midst of all this the invasion of the Slow movement has been quite intense. The pressure to take time off and reassess our priorities is unavoidable. Having done no research and relying only on my personal observations I can say that the corporate kind of slow has not yet raised its head in Estonia. There are groups of people who practice slow life in their own way but they are not that eminent in the society as a whole. City governments are still struggling to meet the needs of their citizens, all kinds of projects have been put on hold and streets have become weirdly quiet.
Fortunately the individual approach to slow is more pervasive. For example, a recent article from a local newspaper reads:
Despite the difficult times he is optimistic and believes that nothing happens without a reason: after having spent such a long time working abroad he can now watch his children grow and has decided never to go away from home again. He would rather keep a low profile when things get better and try to have a life here, at home as a family.
This is a perfect way to describe the process of slowing down in Estonia. Of course, there families for whom losing the income isn’t just making life more complicated but rather impossible. And there are those who get even more anxious to grow their facade of a luxurious lifestyle when pressured to take time off. But, all in all, I’d like to think that a little humbleness is good for us once in a while. Difficulties make us rethink our priorities and possibilities, people stick together and depend on each other more, there is more time for details to consider and emotions to share. And since quantity is out of the question, quality steps in.
Quality - the essence of slow.
Recent posts by this author
- You are what you eat - December 2nd, 2009
- What Can I Do? - June 12th, 2009
- Nature, animals and little children - June 10th, 2009
- Slow in joy and sorrow - May 19th, 2009
- Slow work - it's easy, but not simple - February 18th, 2009
