Je ne sais pas quand câest arrivĂ©. Il nây a pas eu dâalerte, pas de grand choc. Juste un matin, mes pas ont ralenti avant, je faisais tout vite, je marchais vite, je parlais vite, je mangeais sans vraiment mĂącher. JâĂ©tais toujours un peu en avance ou un peu en retard, mais jamais vraiment lĂ . Je remplissais mes journĂ©es comme des valises trop petites, pensant quâune vie bien remplie Ă©tait une vie bien vĂ©cue. Et puis, un jour, jâai commencĂ© Ă marcher moins vite. Au dĂ©but, jâai rĂąlĂ©. Contre mes genoux, contre les escaliers, contre ce fichu sac trop lourd qui me suis depuis des annĂ©es. Puis, jâai commencĂ© Ă lever les yeux, Ă voir les fleurs sur les balcons, Ă remarquer lâodeur du pain chaud quand je passe devant la boulangerie, Ă entendre le vent dans les arbres. Avant, je traversais la vie comme on traverse une gare vite, pressĂ©, le regard fixĂ© au bout du couloir. Maintenant⊠je prends le temps, de saluer, dâĂ©couter, de mâarrĂȘter. Je redĂ©couvre les bancs publics, le plaisir de regarder les gens passer, sans avoir besoin de les rattraper, de leur parler. Je prends mon cafĂ© chaud, pas tiĂšde, je laisse infuser mes pensĂ©es, comme une tisane quâon ne veut pas gĂącher. Et tu sais quoi ? Ce nâest pas triste, de ralentir câest doux, câest vrai, câest sage, câest accepter que tout ne doit pas aller vite pour ĂȘtre important, câest comprendre que les moments les plus prĂ©cieux sont souvent les plus lents. Un regard qui dure. Un silence quâon nâinterrompt pas. Une main quâon serre plus longtemps. Jâai marchĂ© vite toute ma vie, pensant que câĂ©tait ça, avancer. Mais aujourdâhui, je sais câest dans la lenteur quâon entend son propre cĆur. Et dans ce battement tranquille je me sens pleinement vivante. Et toi qui lis ces mots tu es belle, tu es beau dans ta maniĂšre de ralentir. Dans ta douceur. Dans ton souffle tranquille. Continue.
I don't know when it happened. There was no warning, no big shock. Just one morning, my steps slowed down before, I did everything quickly, I walked quickly, I spoke quickly, I ate without really chewing. I was always a little early or a little late, but never really there. I filled my days like undersized suitcases, thinking that a life well-filled was a life well-lived. And then, one day, I started walking slower. At first, I grumbled. At my knees, at the stairs, at this damned, too-heavy bag that has been following me for years. Then, I started to look up, to see the flowers on the balconies, to notice the smell of warm bread when I pass by the bakery, to hear the wind in the trees. Before, I went through life like you go through a train station quickly, in a hurry, staring at the end of the corridor. Now... I take the time to say hello, to listen, to stop. I'm rediscovering public benches, the pleasure of watching people go by, without needing to catch up with them, to talk to them. I drink my coffee hot, not lukewarm, I let my thoughts infuse, like a herbal tea you don't want to waste. And you know what? It's not sad, slowing down is sweet, it's true, it's wise, it's accepting that not everything has to go fast to be important, it's understanding that the most precious moments are often the slowest. A look that lasts. A silence that isn't interrupted. A hand that is held longer. I walked fast all my life, thinking that was what it meant to move forward. But today, I know it's in slowness that you hear your own heart. And in that quiet beat I feel fully alive. And you who are reading these words are beautiful, you are beautiful in the way you slow down. In your gentleness. In your quiet breathing. Keep going.
