The Art of Slowing Down
Pastor Aaron gave us a little lesson in music theory last week, taking us through terms like Meno Mosso and Meno Vivo. (It took me back to college Latin—which, naturally, required a few deep, cleansing breaths.)
Meno reminds musicians—and us—to slow down, to dwell, to take things a little softer. But, if we’re honest, sitting still or going slow and steady isn’t normal for most of us. We are a hustle and bustle, hard and fast, never-look-back, give-it-110% kind of people. We equate motion with progress, leaving most of us breathless and burned out.
I had to learn a new kind of rhythm when I took up pottery a few years ago. It is an art form that demands presence and intentionality. It requires slowing down, taking time, and paying attention. A process that often lends itself to frustration.
When I first started, the spinning clay felt wild and out of control. I’d turn that wheel to full speed, holding my breath, pushing hard, trying to force the clay into shape—only to watch it literally fly off the wheel. Sort of creating my own chaos.
And to make things worse, I had been watching professional potters on social media, who could make perfect vessels in record time. So I thought I had to go faster. Spoiler alert: I didn't.
Then one day, it hit me: I was the one pushing the pedal. I was the one controlling the speed. Seems obvious, I know. But in my hurry of focusing on the clay, the water, the tools—and, let’s be real, comparing myself to those Instagram potters—I had completely forgotten that I could slow things down. I could slow down or speed up the spinning according to what worked best for me, for my own abilities, and for the clay.
It’s the same in life. We spin too fast, try so hard, compare too much, and hold our breath under pressure—forgetting that Jesus invites us into a different kind of rhythm. He says, “Abide in Me.” (John 15:5)
The Greek word for abide is menó—to remain, to dwell, to stay in rhythm with Him.
So yes, it turns out we’re learning to slow down in two languages:
Menó (Greek): to remain, abide, dwell
Meno (Latin): less
It took a long time to get the right rhythm of spinning and working with the clay. Even after years at the wheel, I still sometimes spin too fast or push too hard—and yes, the clay still flies.
So, these days, when I sit at the pottery wheel, I don’t hold my breath, and I’ve learned to adjust my speed, to take my time.
In my life, too, I’m learning to balance the speed of life with abiding in what God is doing in me—in this moment. And I don’t have to learn another language to hear Holy Spirit remind me to slow down—dwell—breathe.
I don’t control everything, but I do get to choose how fast I spin.
Deep Breaths:
1. In what areas of your life are you spinning too fast or pushing too hard—and how might God be inviting you to slow down and abide with Him?
2. What practical step could you take this week to create space for stillness, breathing, and “meno”—less noise, less pressure, and more presence with God?
Here is a Slow Down recommendation:
• Book - The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry - John Mark Comer