It’s hard to believe that we are already into the third week of 2012. Our year is slowly taking shape. We are using the winter months to think, plan and create practical ways to bring the slow philosophy to this speedy city.  There’s a sense of uncertainty about how one can survive, let alone thrive, during this time of upheaval; but also a very clear sense that things have to change.

A new book called Slow Finance, which asks if the financial sector is out of scale with the real economy, has inspired our thinking. Written by the award-winning fund manager Gervais Williams, the book outlines how the excessive scale of the financial sector is reliant on globalisation and the expansion of credit.

“Just as the Slow Food movement represents a reaction to the food industry losing sight of its ultimate purpose, Slow Finance explores how parallel trends will soon appear in the investment world.” Bloomsbury Publishing

It’s a thought provoking but accessible read, especially if you don’t know anything about Finance. We met with Gervais at the beginning of the month and he has given us two copies of the book to give away so please email us at slowdown@slowdownlondon.co.uk by 31st January and we will send the books to first two names out of the hat. 

For those of you that have too many books to read you might want to attend a talk that Gervais is doing on 9th February or you can just download an app to help with your investments and savings! 

Slow Down London was created to bring the intellectual ideas behind the Slow Philosophy together with practical ways to implement these ideas in our every day life, so I am very pleased to announce that Tessa Watt, Co-Director at Slow Down London has a new book out on Mindfulness. I found myself reading it from cover to cover on the train last week and was once again reminded of the simple things we can do to help us appreciate life.

It is full of straightforward advice, case studies and step-by-step instructions that are easy to follow. The ones that caught my attention are the exercises on how to become mindful of our bodies. I have been doing the “feeling your fingers” exercise every morning, which doesn’t take long but which has really helped me to become more aware of what I am feeling which in turn has led to me being fully present to this moment.

As to our plans, The Slow Down London team is looking forward to the global Slow Living Day an annual event that started in Italy and which will be coming to London this year on Monday 26th March. We will be doing another slow club in the spring – and of course it will be hard to avoid the Olympics if you live in London, and we feel that the slow philosophy will be much needed in the crazy summer months, so we are cooking up some plans around this as well. We will be sending more information in the coming months and hope to see you at our events.

Finally, Slow Down London has a wonderful pool of volunteers who help us with our events, PR, administration, fundraising and other things. If you would have some spare time and would like to come and volunteer with us please email slowdown@slowdownlondon.co.uk

Here’s to all of us finding the tempo gusto (the right speed) for our lives in 2012.

Deepa Patel

Co-director, Slow Down London

Image by Simon Bisson

Look up at the Sky has taken Gemma from Hampton Court towards the Thames Barrier with the intention of exploring the peace and the pauses around London.

Gemma says: ‘Each walk is an informal stroll and everyone is encouraged to take in the journey at their own pace – with a notebook, a camera, a paintbrush, a basket to fill with flowers, or maybe just a map. We’re a small group of poets, writers, photographers and artists and others who have felt inspired to join.’

For more information visit www.lookupatthesky.co.uk, where you can contact Gemma directly.

Image by Mathew Hanratty

All the walks are at an easy pace and are suitable for people who are just starting out in walking, and as well as those who just want to slow down and enjoy what is good about our varied city.

The walks are led by experienced volunteers, and all ages walk with them. The London Strollers have a Saturday Stroll every week and organise weekday strolls too. Examples of recent walks include a Wimbledon circular, a city of London tour, a stroll around Brixton. as well as the popular Wednesday evening waterway walks along canals and the Thames. The London Strollers are looking to increase their membership and expand the number of walks they offer every week.

The London Strollers are part of the national Ramblers, who campaign to protect footpaths in the UK. The London Strollers would welcome fellow Slow Down Londoners on their walks. If you would like to join them please see their website at www.londonstrollers.org.uk where you can see details of their next few walks and how to join.

If you want more information please e-mail londonstrollers@gmail.com to join their mailing list.

Alex Mannings

A friend of mine warned me recently of the dangers of spending all day staring at a computer screen; apparently the muscles of the eye involved in switching between distance and close-up vision become weak and lazy after a long period of inactivity.

He suggested I do exercises every now and again – looking out of the window at something far away, and then back into the office around me. Ha, I do plenty of this anyway, I thought. But how much of my distant gazing was actually zoning out rather than focusing in, I wondered?

So I tried it, and I discovered something so painfully obvious, that it made me write this article. The world is 3-dimensional. It is infinitely deep. And the eye is the speediest tool we have – one moment I’m at the end of my nose, the next I’m a mile away on a rooftop. And in between, the space – for the first time giving this attention to my focus I am aware of the space between as an area in itself – magical and full of potential.

I am revelling in my sense of sight. Seeing us fun and surprising. How did I forget about this?

One possibility is the mind’s view that “I’ve seen it before so I don’t need to look.” Oh, a tree. Big deal. Grey sky. Yawn. Wish it was blue. Wish I was looking out over a vineyard in Sicily….Which is one reason why travelling appears so enlightening to us. Suddenly all our senses are forced to wake up and it feels good. But walking down Balham High Road this evening it didn’t seem like I had seen it all before. Have you ever had that startling experience of walking into your living room and seeing an object that’s been there for years, as if for the first time?

Another explanation might be the dominance of screens in our culture, work and entertainment. Watching sports is more often done on the TV where the work of picking out what to watch is done for us. But is some of the joy taken out of it too? Is there another game in simply allowing the eye to roam around and chase whatever takes its fancy?

I realise that on a deeper level the backdrop (or rather frontdrop as my eyes tend to look forward) of my life appears more often to me like a picture than a sculpture – moving, yes, but not so shapely as it turns out to be. Even a film is flat; 3D provides an illusion of depth but we know this to be false; we are intelligent animals. Somewhere inside us a disappointing bargain is being struck: the age of convenience denies us our sensual workout, and the reward is a comfortable blindness.

Annalie Wilson

www.annalie.co.uk

On the art of making a latte last two hours…

There are few things I like better in life than the indulgence of very slowly sipping a cappuccino in a coffee shop, and watching the world go by…While some people like to go bungee jumping or water skiing on their holidays, my idea of bliss generally revolves around sitting in a leafy European square somewhere with a cup of something hot and frothy, a cake and a good novel.

I’ve never been to Vienna, but I’ve often fantasised about the quality of the coffee houses, the precise flakiness of the strudel. It’s no surprise that Paris is one of my favourite cities, a place where the café culture (rightly) dictates that chairs face outwards to encourage blatant people watching.

London is getting better and better at doing decent coffee, but it’s still not quite as good at providing the places that allow you to really linger (perhaps it’s to do with our distinct lack of squares and leafy boulevards). There’s a fine art to making a tall latte and a cinnamon bun last two hours (still a rare affordable luxury, even in a recession). But in many establishments before you know it, an over-eager waitress will have whisked your tepid, half-drunk coffee away.

Chains, and their special brand of faceless anonymity – same furniture, same wall colour, same cake selection, same piped music and pictures – are sometimes better at allowing you stay as long as you want. But that’s mainly because the staff just don’t care. Better by far to choose a local independent café, to support someone’s family business, and become a familiar, welcome face. They won’t mind if you’re the kind of customer who spends two hours consuming one Americano and an apricot Danish, because they know you will be back tomorrow, and that you not only know their wifi password off by heart, you’ve also only got two stamps to go on your loyalty card before you get a free mochaccino.

Of course, some people wonder why a cup of coffee costs over £2, and feel that they are somehow being ripped off. ‘But I can make a cup of coffee at home for virtually nothing,’ they protest. That’s missing the point entirely. When you go to a café alone, you are not just paying £2 for the cup of coffee. You are paying to have a few moments of peace in a busy day, to have a space to ponder and be alone with your thoughts. You are paying to escape the familiar grottiness of your own home or workplace. If you like, you are effectively renting a table on a very short-term lease in a calm place where tasks and errands and unpaid bills and dirty dishes aren’t calling you. (How many novels and great ideas have started in coffee shops? How many writers still sit hunched over their netbooks, waiting for inspiration?) You are paying for the overheads of the shop, the rent, the staff, the lighting, as well as the coffee grounds. All that for £2 suddenly seems like a bargain.

So where are the best slow coffee spots in London? My favourites change from month to month, year to year. In central London, I have a perennial soft spot for the café at the top of Foyles, mainly for the free wifi, the jazz soundtrack and the eclectic mix of ‘starving-in-a-garret’-type individuals who appear to be writing screenplays on Mac books, while spinning out a cold espresso and a glass of tap water.

Out east, Counter Café, is a not-so-hidden urban secret – an Aussie-inspired joint tucked in a corner of Hackney Wick, with battered chairs and brick walls, that does seriously good flat whites and food. There are other cafés I love even more for the aesthetics, the buzzy atmosphere, the delicious cakes. But you can’t necessarily hang around in them, or guarantee you won’t be hurried along. And that is the key to slow coffee happiness.

Cheryl Freedman

One of our Slow Club online participants reflects on the process:

The task for week one was to notice my speed.  I can’t say I honestly managed to do this daily, however I did make a concerted effort to reflect on my speed and to be appropriate in the time I took to do tasks.  One of the things I noticed was that I think and feel calm when in motion under my own steam.  So when I was on my bike or walking I felt very much at the appropriate pace to my activity.  However when I attempted to walk slowly I found myself speeding up to my normal pace – as if my feet had a mind of their own!  During my quick-slow-quick-slow walk I did make sure to look up and around me more as I walked, and thoroughly enjoyed this connection with my urban environment.

Week two asked me to ‘switch off’ some technology for an hour a day.  Hmm, I thought dubiously, what if someone calls, texts, tweets, emails or facebooks me – I won’t be able to answer straight away, panic!  Then I thought about the time before mobile phones, before constant social connections existed – I managed to live without tweets and texts then; maybe it was time to give it a go again…

I kept my weekend technology to a minimum, then from Monday I put my phone away during work hours.   I left it in my locker at work – only checking it at lunch and after work.  Usually I would have it in my pocket to check my emails frequently, and answer any calls and texts as soon as I received them.  I actually felt better able to concentrate on my work with out my phone ‘nagging’ me from my pocket.  This week I was working in a creative workshop, so I was completely isolated from technology in that sense, and… I totally enjoyed it!

The weekly task was to take a lunch break, something that I nearly always do already.  My job is, for the most part, manual so I find having a lunch break is an important part of my day – the opportunity to sit down and rest is vital to my ability to work.  This week however I took a walk on one of my lunches to the canal and had a little sit down there, watching the water. I also made sure to go outside for a part of my breaks on the other days, just for a spot of reflection and daylight.  I found it very relaxing to step away from the noise and conversation of the lunchroom, it gave me a pleasant energetic feeling when I came back that I don’t usually have after lunch.

Week three’s task is to watch my breath and eat mindfully, both outside of my normal habits.  I breath (as most of us do) without thinking, and my meals tend to be social – catching up with my partner, chatting to colleagues etc – so I will have to think strongly about my actions for this task.  I will blog about it next week, fingers crossed I manage to do it!

Bridget Harvey

http://www.bridgetharvey.co.uk

With limited reserves of energy and time at my disposal, I can never truly keep up with the Zeitgeist anyway. So I have decided, instead, that I will become a slow music listener. My rules are simple:

I will listen to albums from start to finish. One of the things I really miss as an adult is the joy of truly losing myself in music, for hours on end. I remember lying on my bed and studiously listening to every track on OK Computer, familiarising myself with each individual guitar part and bassline. I was once able to recite track-listings on albums backwards. I’d pore over lyric sheets and sleeve notes and obscure dedications and gatefold artwork. Then gradually one-on-time with music took a back seat to jobs, kids, aimlessly surfing the internet… And, meanwhile, the shuffle button slowly killed the album as artistic statement. But I refuse to be the cultural philistine who only downloads the singles. So I am going to put on records, be they by PJ Harvey or Tinie Tempah, and listen to every single track with no distractions. No Twitter feed, no Facebook updates, no rubbishy property show in the background. Just me, my headphones, my duvet, possibly a cup of tea and a packet of HobNobs. Bliss.

I will listen to music that I already own. My shelves at home are lined with thousands of CDs from the last 20 years. Most just sit there, slowly acquiring a film of dust. Yet are The Vaccines or any of the other bands du jour really better than the gazillions of forgotten records I already own, but can’t quite bear to throw out? Of course they are not. So I am going to resist the cult of the new, and the clarion call of this week’s supposed talent (James Blake, Nicki Minaj et al). Instead, I will journey to the centre of my CD rack. As well as the Bob Dylans or Beach Boys, the Elbows and Eels, I will revisit the recently unexplored nether regions, the much-loved World Party or The The or Talk Talk records, even if they are hideously unfashionable and everyone else has forgotten who they even are. I may be some time.

I am going to listen to songs I love over and over again. Just because I can, and without shame. (Current random favourites include Yeasayer’s ‘O.N.E’, Caribou’s ‘Odessa’, LCD Soundsystem’s ‘You Wanted A Hit’, Nick Cave’s ‘Albert Goes West’, and Nick Drake’s ‘Joey’.) Music is all about transporting yourself to a better place. In its best moments it’s a form of pure meditation and escapism. If you love it, listen to it and nourish your inner self. Even if ‘it’ (and I don’t say this lightly) is the Glee soundtrack.

I am going to listen to ‘slow’ music. Quite literally. In a fast-paced city, on a packed out Central Line train, it’s sometimes all that keeps my sanity intact. Folk is generally good (though I draw the line at Mumford & Sons). At the moment, during rush hour, I’m working my way through the Fairport Convention and Richard and Linda Thompson back catalogue. Very, very slowly. And, yes, in weaker moments I have been known to put on Classic FM.

Do you have a slow music rule you adhere to? Please let us know here.

Cheryl Freedman

One of our Slow Clubbers considers the first week:

I have just received the first Slow Club instructions and I am looking forward to including them into my forthcoming hectic week, and hopefully picking up some good Slow day-to-day habits for the future.

My normal week either involves working for myself or someone else, sometimes multiple places in the same week, and a lot of diary management to make sure that I get everything done on time and am in the right place at the right time. Managing my time to squish as much as possible into my day seems to be my default mode.

So when I received my first Slow Club email my first thought was ‘at what point will I be walking somewhere that I can make my Slow walk?’ – trying to plan it in!  So that actually became my first point to be aware of my pace – I thought about it and chose not to plan it in – I will just try to think about my speed during my whole week, I think my daily moment will be when I am sitting down for a break as that tends to be the point where my brain races to think about what I should be doing.

I will be blogging next week to say how I got on, fingers crossed I have managed to be a little less frenetic.  Good luck to everyone else who is engaging with the first week of Slow Club too, I look forward to hearing what you all have to say.

Bridget Harvey

http://www.bridgetharvey.co.uk

The good news is that we believe we can offer practical tips to incorporate into your everyday life, along with some seriously playful experiences that can help you slow down and enjoy London. The even better news is we’d like your help for our next Slow Club and are offering a great deal for you if you join us!

Our next Slow Club started on Thursday 17^th February 2011 for five weekly sessions, 7 – 8.30pm, at the peaceful St Alphege Church in SE1, ending with a conversation dinner. The cost is ‘pay what you can’ from £30 to £50 for the whole course. If you’re interested please sign up here.

Pay what you can

Pay fifty pounds £50.00 Pay forty pounds £40.00 Pay thirty pounds £30.00

The Club

During the five weeks you will meet up once a week (on Thursdays) with us and your fellow ‘clubbers’ to check in and participate in slow adventures including meditation exercises, food tasting, play, mindfulness and art appreciation.

We will be working with four themes during this time:

*Finding your own pace

*Switching it off – ( don’t worry we are not going to deprive of your favourite TV shows, or Iphone unless you choose to do so!)

*Being here now

*Creating space

Each week you will also receive an email with your ‘slow actions’ (or in-actions!) which you can do at your own pace. We will offer you as much or as little support as you need, both online whenever you like, and in person at the weekly meetings.

We ran our first Slow Club in 2010, and this will be our second pilot before launching more publicly later in the year. The special reduced cost for this pilot scheme will be ‘pay as you can’ between £30 and £50 for the whole course, plus the cost of the final dinner (approx £15 plus drinks). Any money we make will help support our non-profit organisation in our mission to encourage a slower and saner lifestyle in this big city of ours.

Interested? Get in touch on our contact page or sign up via the Paypal link above.

If you would like to know more you can also visit our Slow Club page to find blogs from people who took part in the first club. Here is what some people said:

‘This made me smile because it helped me see that usually I’m rushing around when I don’t really need to.’

‘I am more aware of different ways of slowing down. And I look at art in a whole new way!’‘

‘I have remembered to appreciate what I have here and now.’

‘Awareness is increased. I am more consciously taking ‘slow routes’ even if only to Tesco’

‘Enjoyable, enlightening, empowering.’

Sounds good? We’ll see you there - Help us to Slow Down London!

Artist Annalie Wilson records a joyful and spontaneous response to Ai Weiwei’s
exhibition of sunflower seeds at the Tate Modern.

Visitors have been denied the opportunity to walk on the Chinese artist’s carpet of seeds for
health and safety reasons.  In a non-aggressive act of curiosity Annalie
explores the feeling of liberation that comes from daring to go beyond the
confines of the captive mind. Her video incorporates original music. More
of Annalie’s music videos can be found at
http://www.youtube.com/annaliewilson