We encountered the high moorland, semi-desert, on Day 3 and traversed the southwest side of the mountain. “Pole pole” is the motto of the mountain, and especially today on our first notoriously difficult day, we hike “slowly, slowly.”
Slow is the secret to success and health on the mountain.
“Pole, pole” is the way of life on the mountain, but it seems like a natural extension of the African lifestyle. Life is slower here and I think they’re on to something. There is no such thing as “life in the fast lane.” You cannot find a fast-paced lifestyle. Fast is good for an adrenaline rush, a momentary bliss. After years of chasing “faster!” and “more!”…I am realizing that what I actually want is “slow,” and “less” of the things that don’t matter to create space for the things that do.
“Slowly” is like a treadmill put on the slowest setting, and then going half that speed. It seems insane and agonizing, and yet it is the only way up the mountain. At first the pace seemed silly, and unnecessarily cautious. It was for “those” people who weren’t sure if they were going to make it, but not for athletic hikers like us. It went against everything I had ever learned and practiced in my competitive running days. I still felt the young athlete inside me who thrived on winning. I needed to pass the others on the path. A group of five people ahead of us – why are we slowing down to fall in line behind them?! My race mentality kicks in: surge to get by them, and then settle back in to your pace. But there is no surging here. There is only one pace, and that is slow. In my mind, it is a constant battle between the tortoise and the hare: slow and steady wins the race.
Speed is not rewarded here. There is no room for ego on the mountain. The altitude will humble even the greatest of athletes.
Maybe, after all, slow is what really satisfies.
Slow enough to be present, instead of over-busy. Slow enough to linger, instead of rushing to the next thing. Slow enough to actually listen and cultivate deep relationships, instead of superficial friendships. Slow enough to delight in the unhurried rhythms of grace.
Read on about our summit experience here, or rewind to the beginning of our journey here.
