i have been reading Lord of the Rings It’s been two months and I just finished the first part. It’s not because I don’t enjoy it. It was one of the most enjoyable reading experiences I can remember.
From the beginning, I read the entire text aloud. I find that reading aloud helps me stay focused – limiting myself to the speed of my speech rather than the speed of my eyes means I don’t rush, miss important details, and then lose interest, which has always been a problem for me.
At first I was very anxious and wanted to read a 1500-word book like this because it was too long. But, as someone pointed out to me, if I was enjoying it, why would I want to end it early?
So I try to slow down Evenand discovered something. I slowed down, feeling almost ridiculous, treating each sentence as if it were a particularly important one. I put probably three times the amount of time and attention into each book that I normally would, ignoring the fact that there were hundreds of pages left to do.
This leisurely pace makes the world of Middle-earth bloom before my eyes. When I pause after each comma and let each sentence ring for a brief moment after the period, the events in the story feel more weighty and powerful to me. This extra time gave room for Tolkien’s images and emotions to spread in my mind, which they did automatically.
Some part of me still wants to rush on, to kill time, glossing over the songs and lore to get to Moria and Mount Doom and other important moments in the story. But the more I ignored the urge, the better the experience became.
I got three times the attention from a book that provided three times the usual amount of attention Storytelling (i.e. meaning, engagement, literary pleasure). Whatever I’m looking for when I first pick up a novel, at this rate, I’m finding a lot more.
Diet understanding
This effect reminds me of a paradox about diet I recognized a long time ago. When you eat slower, such as half or one-third of your default speed, you can get more enjoyment out of less food. That extra attention to each bite allows more of the “good stuff” (whatever that is) to reach your hands.
Paradoxically, it’s the pursuit of “the good stuff” that often drives me to eat so quickly and miss out on much of what I’m looking for. When you try to move forward quickly to get good stuff faster, you end up getting less stuff. Slow down and more will be released.
It releases automatically whether you are reading or eating. You don’t have to look for it. Good things (meaning in a text, pleasure in eating) will meet you in the extra time you give. Slowing down and giving more time to the act of consuming can instantly improve reading comprehension (and dietary comprehension).
Both are similar to slowing down when vacuuming a carpet. If you pass the vacuum head too quickly, you’ll miss half the dirt. Slow it down and you can hear how many grains of sand slide along the tube. The suction and bristles are working, but they need more time to do their job adequately to suck out the deeper stuff.
Question the default settings
It seems that my default rate of consumption for reading and eating (and probably everything else) significantly reduces the rewards of these things, destroying the point of doing anything at all.
Part of it is my own impatience. But I also suspect that the unlimited supply of consumables in modern life tends to push our intake rates too high. I don’t run out of books, snacks, or learning opportunities. There is always more, so not every loaf of bread or printed page needs to be fully appreciated.
But deep down, the mind is juggling like Lucy and Ethel on a conveyor belt in a chocolate factory. Our meaning and appreciation receptors, like vacuum heads, need more time to do their full job of making all the connections they are designed to make.
It sounds like I’m just saying some cliché – less is more, stop and smell the roses, take your time – and I guess I am. But clichés suffer from the same problem: they are often profound insights that are consumed and disseminated so quickly that their true meaning is no longer recognized. You should really stop and smell the roses, you know if you’re in the habit of doing that.
At least look at what happens when you reduce the rate of consumption of anything (especially books, information, and food) by half or two-thirds. Notice how (1) something inside you really wants to push through at the highest feasible settings, and (2) how much reward is unlocked when you slow down.
From what I’ve learned, almost everything becomes more satisfying when you put more time and intention into it, even things like checking your mailbox or writing your shopping list.
Speed changes taste
Slowing down your consumption will inevitably change your life think Go spend. Reading one-off news articles or AI nonsense with caution will only teach you how empty of value it is. It becomes easier to read the dense words in the ink-colored ancient books carefully crafted by masters for your soul, without the rushed pace, and the meaning blooms.
Same goes for food. Try tasting a cheap waxy “chocolate” bar, or a bag of store-brand cheese puffs, and you’ll notice a pungent flavor that makes you reluctant to take a closer look. Enjoy homemade pastries with care and you’ll find there’s more to them than you thought.
Mass production is beneficial in many ways, but the faster we consume its fruits, the more we end up seeking its smooth, candied surface. The more we pursue these surface rewards, the more focused the culture becomes on providing only that part—think TikTok videos, processed foods, CGI retweeted movies, and public discourse in the form of uncensored talking points.
Who knows how far we have strayed from the best patterns of consuming the things we hold dear. Once something becomes the norm, it seems to be an appropriate standard no matter how much is lost. Apparently, until the 18th century, silent reading alone was unusual.th century. Sitting down to eat and cooking at home, of course.
I don’t mean that to sound scolding. Arguably, none of this is morally good or bad. It’s just that in a lot of things we do, we can get more of what we’re truly seeking—but it only comes at a slower pace.
If you’re curious, try eating more slowly, as slowly as it seems silly to other people—say, a third of the speed you’re accustomed to—and see what emerges to greet you.
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Want to give up something in January?
Recently, I started a discussion forum for Raptitude readers who wanted to give up something in December (alcohol, social media, snacks, etc.).
It was a real success and a lot of people wanted to do something similar in January. If you want to give up something, or just give up for a month, we invite you to join.
Please click on the link at the end of this article to receive an invitation.
