Fast and Far

Most of us know the saying, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” While it’s often called an African proverb, its true origins are uncertain.

 

At present, we are travelling. I’ve been keeping track of our speed at every stage of the journey, and I’ve realised that this proverb doesn’t always hold true in reality.

Fast and close: Kottayam to Kochi – 80 km by car, 2 people, 40 km per hour

Fast and far: Kochi to Vizag – 1,500 km by plane, over 200 people, 750 km per hour

Fast and far: Vizag to Lamptaput – 210 km by car, 2 people, 40 km per hour during the day, 50 km per hour early morning

Slow and near: In Delhi – 12 km, 75 minutes, 2 people, 6 km per hour

Fast and far: Delhi to Dehradun – train with a few hundred people, 100 km per hour

Mostly fast and far as if you have your tail on fire!

Travel these days is mainly about speed. The only time it’s slow is when there are too many vehicles on the road, as in any big city. And so in truth, you can travel fast and far even with others. You can also journey far by yourself. 

This applies to life too.

 

Many people travel quickly together but have no time for one another. They care only about the destination and productivity. Recently, at Vembanadu Lake, I saw a chundan vallom—a race boat with about 100 rowers, all rowing frantically to win. They were together, moving fast, but had no time for each other.

 

Conversely, some travel far alone or in small groups. Some have time for each other; others do not. On the lake, we saw a speedboat going fast and far, with no time for anyone else. At the same time, there were Shikaras with small groups moving slowly and far, deeply engaged in conversation - like our group.

 

Consider the other types of boats:

 

Speed boats: Fast, no time for others, often enjoyed alone.

Race boats: Groups moving fast mainly to attract and entertain crowds.

Houseboats: Slow, small families, wealthier, drifting along and enjoying life.

Fishermen’s boats: Slow, small, risky, people working hard for their livelihood, often exhausted, usually in pairs supporting each other.

Shikara boats: Slow, communities of travellers on planned journeys, moving with purpose.

 

And that’s the reality of life too.

 

There were seasons when many people were around me, but I had no time. I was busy in my speed boat or race boat along with others. Like the fast and furious! 

Now I have time to go slow, but many of those people are no longer around. Of course, others are there, but I still move at a fast pace, as if I’m going somewhere even now.

 

Recently I was reading an interesting book, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43982455

Some quotes from the author were very challenging. Here are a few, with my reflections.

 

“Hurry is not a disordered schedule, but a disordered heart.”

I always thought my problem was sorting out my schedules. But it’s not about schedules - it’s about how slow my heart is willing to go, and with whom, instead of running around like a headless chicken.

 

To reduce hurry, I need to learn how to say no. The author says, “No is a complete sentence.” But I always thought saying no is rude. So I say, “I’ll get back to you later,” and then end up saying yes.

 

Then there is my gadget, constantly telling me what to do. The author reminds me: “Your phone doesn’t actually work for you. You pay for it, yes. But it works for a multibillion-dollar corporation in California, not for you. You’re not the customer; you’re the product. It’s your attention that’s for sale, along with your peace of mind.”

 

The moment life becomes a bit slow, I get concerned. 

 

And again he says, “The second we feel even a hint of boredom coming on, we reach for our smartphones… check news feeds, answer an email, read a tweet about who‑knows‑what before tweeting about who‑knows‑what, look up the weather, search for shoes, and naturally, slay at Candy Crush.” A Microsoft survey found that 77 percent of young adults reach for their phone the moment nothing occupies their attention.” 

 

Not only young adults - seniors like me too.

 

He continues: “Amazon.com is the new temple. The Visa statement is the new altar. Double‑clicking is the new liturgy. Lifestyle bloggers are the priests and priestesses.” (Am I such a blogger? )

And then I complain about being emotionally exhausted, psychologically overworked, and spiritually malnourished.

In the good book, there was an offer I refused for decades: “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me… and take my yoke...you’ll recover your life… learn the unforced rhythms of grace… keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

 

The author comments: “A yoke is a work instrument. Thus when He offers a yoke, He offers what tired workers think they need least. They need a mattress or a vacation, not a yoke. But He realises that the most restful gift He can give the tired is a new way to carry life… Realism sees that life is a succession of burdens; we cannot escape them. Instead of offering escape, He offers equipment that gives us a slow pace and with people around.”

 

A bit slower, and with others - and sharing the yoke, that seems to be the invitation.