Snail’s Pace

Learning to embrace moving slowly in a fast-paced world

Illustration: Khushi Sagar

The snail is known for being slow. Its sluggishness and size have generated this species’ role as the mascot of laziness. Leisurely speeds and inefficiency are negative characteristics from most human standpoints, and the snail’s small figure compared to our own allows us to judge it, and look down on it as we step in strides over one hundred times faster than its rate. However, when one’s perspective changes, the snail’s symbolism changes, too. They signify patience and persistence while exemplifying slow and steady progress. Considering this animal’s size, it moves rather quickly for its stature. They are not lazy; they are just slow to the human eye, slow from a different perspective. The snail paves a path at its own pace, something I believe we can learn from.

In my limited experience on Earth, I have become acutely aware of the prioritization of speed over slowness that the social institutions we live in push onto people within them. In this world, there is constant pressure to do, work, accomplish, and earn more to keep up with “hustle culture.” This toxic ideology prioritizes overworking oneself, putting work before personal life, pursuing impossible goals, and exerting one’s physical and mental health, all in the pursuit of hustle culture’s narrow standards of success. Fast-moving lifestyles have become the established norm in city life worldwide, infiltrating industries and idealising “workaholics.” The mindset that constant productivity equates to success is intertwined in modern life, glorified on social media and now expected in the workforce.

I don’t mean to say that aiming high is negative; being ambitious, hard-working, and driven are incredible traits that each of us possesses! I believe that the harmful part becomes involved when we allow societal pressures and expectations to dictate how we view success and define our self-worth. When the idea of “rest” becomes a setback and your relationship with productivity becomes toxic. When others’ opinions cause you to criticise your passions and steer you down a path you don’t enjoy. When you de-prioritize human connection, self-compassion, and your basic human needs.

As a Bachelor of Arts student, I have received high doses of judgment for what I have chosen to study. The stigmas and stereotypes surrounding those pursuing a degree within the diverse branches of liberal arts are widely known. The common question, “What can you even do with an Arts degree?” is one all BA students are sure to have encountered, regardless of the school they attend, the program they are in, or the classes they take. Even as an environmental studies student, because I am not in the sciences, others have deemed my program (directly to me) to be less worthwhile. The school systems I have grown up in have pushed their hard-set notions that the traditional academic pathway is the only viable route to take. Artistic, humanities and social studies programs all face their fair share of criticisms, but how would their critics know what the students within them learn about if their first instinct is judgment rather than openness to learn?

With so much external pressure from people, school systems, media, and the various social situations of comparison we are placed in, it becomes intuitive to let the weight of their disapproval cave in. It prevents you from pursuing your dreams, because in their eyes, you have already failed, and what worth do you have without the approval of a superficial gaze?

“Comparison is the thief of joy,” is the phrase I commonly repeat to myself in this setting. I have received the opportunity to study what I am passionate about, and that is what matters. I should not compare my academic journey to someone else’s, because everyone works hard in their different programs and lives unique lives for their individual reasons. It is not bad, it is just different.

These external evaluations extend to more than just my school life, but every segment of myself. “If what I am studying isn’t valuable enough for others, does that mean I, as a person, hold less value, too?” These thoughts creep inwards like a termite infestation, rotting the stability of my thoughts like the foundation of a house. In moments like these, I should remind myself of the snail. The invertebrate’s shell carries a spiral pattern winding outwards from its centre. Spirals are said to represent the cycle of life, illustrating a pathway of birth, growth, and death. The spiral is etched onto the snail’s exoskeleton, converging their two symbolisms: the pathway of life experiences growth, which like the snail, takes its time.

There are infinite inspirational quotes that support this idea. One of my favourites I have come across is from Rupi Kaur, who wrote in her book Homebody, “I will never have this version of myself again. Let me slow down and be with her.” In this, Kaur presents a mindset that allows you to be present and grateful for who you are now, treating yourself with a soft understanding and taking a moment to pause and reflect. Embrace the beauty of your current self, of your present life.

It feels sappy to write this, who needs a philosophical pep talk from a third-year university student? But speaking to my family and friends, who have plenty more life experience and cultivated wisdom, they have all expressed to me over the years how quickly time flies by. They all say the same thing: “Make the most of it while you can,” followed by an “It feels like only yesterday” anecdote. When speaking to my mum on this topic, she expressed to me, “Some people are always thinking of what is coming next, rather than paying attention to what is happening now. Live in the moment and savour it, Love, because you won’t get that time back.” So some of this must ring true.

When I reflect on my past years from now, I would much rather be able to say to myself, “I was able to sit in that uncomfortable situation, or experience something to the fullest while it lasted,” rather than, “I should have enjoyed it while I could have instead of rushing to where I am now.” I

would much rather feel content with the path I took, instead of filled with regret because of the criticism I feared and the opportunities I missed.

I am learning the importance of not following the timelines of others, as we can easily become disconnected from ourselves and forget about the beauty of slowing down. We can better enjoy and find value within our own time when we observe more and stop rushing growth. I plan to follow through on these sentiments by filling my days with things that allow me to appreciate my time, like picking up more of the books from my ‘To Read’ list and listening to my favourite albums all the way through. My days carry more substance and feel longer than those spent scrolling on my phone by going outdoors (before the next Kingston winter begins), writing and journaling, and trying new or favourite hobbies, foods, and experiences. These help rewire my brain not to compare, but to focus inwards on personal growth. In doing so, I feel a reclamation of my hours spent anxious, my days wasted holed up in my room, and my years that lacked gratitude for being alive. It all requires a change of perspective to recognise that any pace is a good pace. It’s just different.

As we enter autumn, I hope that this serves as a reminder that the pathway you are on is valid. It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to exist, so I intend to make it my own. I intend to slow down and embrace it while I can and still have the time, and I intend to do so at a snail’s pace.