I first encountered the term ‘slow living’ only after having spent some years trying to cultivate this way of life. Slow living to me means living one’s life as consciously as possible. Our environment and culture promote living fast, and that often means valuing quantity over quality of experience of life. Instant gratification is at our fingertips. Doordash can deliver KFC to us without our ever having to get dressed or leave the house, Amazon can deliver virtually any consumer good available to our front porch, and virtually any movie or television show ever made can be found on streaming services. Consumer convenience has never been more available.
Slow living, by contrast, is all about living an examined life, embracing intentionality, and actively seeking to spend our time pursuing higher quality of experience. Slow living may encourage us, for example, to study cooking techniques and recipes and make our own fried chicken from scratch. It will take longer to accomplish this than ordering KFC, but the results can bring their own rewards. Not only might it taste better, but one can also increase one’s skills along the way too. Perhaps one wants to grow one’s vegetables in one’s own garden. This too takes a good deal more time than going to the grocery store, but in the end can promote greater food freshness, food safety (no need to worry if the tomatoes were sprayed with pesticides), and satisfaction. Fast living is about eating; slow living is about taking time to taste one’s food.
There is a general emphasis on non-materialism and simplification inherent to slow living. It’s not exactly the same thing as minimalist living but there’s significant overlap with it on a Venn diagram. If one hears echoes of why Thoreau went into the woods here, it’s not a coincidence. We have the option to buy an entire bedroom set from Ikea right now, but perhaps one might ultimately derive more satisfaction taking the time and learning how to make a single piece of furniture with one’s own hands.