The Slow Way Is the Fastest Way to Go

Last exam celebration

At age 13, my daughter Rohan moved to Denmark without speaking the language.

This week, she completed year 13 of school — gymnasium — in Danish, in a very academically demanding program. And Danish is a terribly hard language to learn. Seriously.

She did it in her own way, often dismissing common advice, but she worked so, so hard. She practiced and practiced, held high expectations of herself, and did not break when things did not go her way.

I have an ongoing debate with a good friend of mine, who is also a movement and rehabilitation teacher, about the word “work.” I love the word work when it comes to practice. She doesn’t. I think to her it sounds heavy, maybe joyless.

For me, it has something to do with tapas — one of the niyamas — the fire, the heat, the steady dedication. In my yoga teaching, especially when students are frustrated and want fast progress, I often say:

“The slow way is the fastest way to go.”

I have seen this again and again in the 23 years I have been teaching yoga. The results can be astonishing.

And this week, I saw it in my daughter, who received the highest grade possible — a 12 in Denmark, don’t ask — in her final oral exam.

Many of the days studying included tears. None of the days were free from emotion: fear, fatigue, frustration, hope, hopelessness, determination. All of it.

I watched in awe.

Acquiring new skills, building real strength — by which I mean not overriding your boundaries — moving through grief, hardship, injury; all these things are so worth it. And they ask us to put in the hours.

As Patanjali says in Yoga Sutra 1.14:

“The practice takes root when we return to it again and again, over time, with consistency and dedication.”

But then comes the other side of practice.

Can I, can you, can we — also take a short summer break?

Maybe a few days off?

Can we switch off the “work” button and simply be present, rest, enjoy?

We definitely should try.

Practice matters. Dedication matters. The hours matter.

And so does rest. I haven’t quite learned how to do that yet, but I will try.