My daughter’s family adopted a dog. His name is Loki and he’s a sweet lab mix. He’d been at the shelter longer than any other dog there the day they visited. To say that he’s happy to have a home is a huge understatement.
One thing about Loki is that he is always in a hurry. He runs from his kennel to the door when it’s time to go outside. He eats super fast. Zoomies are his normal pace.
In other words, Loki is a bit manic. Maybe he’s afraid he’s going back to the shelter (even though it’s been a few years now) and he wants to soak up all the life on the outside he can. Maybe he’s making up for all the days he couldn’t rush around. Maybe he’s just generally exuberant.
Lately, it feels like the world of marketing wants us all to act like Loki. AI “enables” us to make more, do more, be faster. Teams are pared down because everyone can do more with less now. But, going slow is the better choice sometimes.
Compare driving and walking. If you need to get someone to the emergency room, you need the fastest possible mode of transportation. But if you’ve been sitting at a desk all day and you’re going to the park in the evening, a walk could easily be the best way to get there so you can move your body, slow down, and transition from work to home life.
When you drive, you might see more, but you don’t see it in detail. You don’t notice the bee on a flower, or the pretty pattern of the bricks on your neighbor’s walkway. You might see a bird on a fence, but not be able to tell it’s a bluebird with a pink chest.
Writing and thinking are closely intertwined, and sometimes thinking fast is critical. I’d argue that most of the time, it’s more important to think carefully, consider different possibilities, and that slowing down to explore different conclusions leads to better outcomes.
A few weeks ago, I took one of my favorite kids to the library. We got into the scavenger hunt (the children’s floor always has a scavenger hunt going on) and lost track of time. When we left, it was past dinner time, and driving home, then cooking would have meant waiting at least an hour to eat. From the back seat, the kid asked plaintively, “Have you ever eaten at Wendy’s?”
We had Wendy’s for dinner and it was fine. It wasn’t as delicious as the spaghetti and salad we’d planned on having, but it served our need at the moment. But, if we ate at Wendy’s everyday, we wouldn’t feel very good and our health would eventually suffer. Plus, we’d miss out on the pleasant conversations that happen when we cook together, the jokes we tell sitting at the dinner table, and the camaraderie of washing up together. We wouldn’t enjoy the adventure of choosing new recipes or discover new flavors we love.
The benefits of going slower aren’t always obvious, but they exist. Your content program will be stronger if it’s backed by slow, careful thought.
