By: Brendan Capuano
This week I was summoned by higher powers to discuss the swarms of people who walk at a speed which makes me question my own existence and if there is a God. Slow walkers…I do not consider myself to be a slow walker. Slow walkers in fact infuriate me, as I am more used to sprinting from meetings to class on a tight schedule. Although, it is only right to defend those who stole through the halls at a leisurely pace. To do this, I made the conscious effort to slow myself down and even, willingly, joined behind the slow walkers in the halls.
In this week of slow walking in solidarity, I had to prepare in a few ways. I created a slow walkers playlist comprised of alternative music from the years 2001 and 2006. With my playlist perfected and me feeling adequately mentally prepared, I had to physically prepare as well. I swiped into 63s, ate a hearty carb loaded lunch and then downed water to create a bloated feeling. After this, I was ready to join the world of the slow walkers. I imagined this was how the late Steve Irwin would prepare to live amongst most majestic of sloths.
In this time of solidarity, I felt the side effects of living the lifestyle of a slow walker. The first being anxiety, caused primarily by the dirty glances of people hastily walking past. The second, bloating, most likely caused by the food inhaled about eight minutes previously. The third, and most interesting, you notice things that you might not normally see moving at a breakneck pace.
I decided to take a slow lap around campus, set to the mellow tunes of Jack Johnson’s “In Between Dreams” album, that there were things I had never seen in my three years.
The first thing I noticed was actually how large Sacred Heart had become in the past three years. I thought back to my senior year of high school on my first tour, looking at the dirty parking lot that would one day become Bergoglio Hall. I remembered how on the car ride home my Mom and I laughed at the fact that the school’s name was SHU and now I call SHU my home.
I strolled campus in my gleeful nostalgic state and saw things I had never noticed. I made a stop into the prayer garden, located behind the chapel. I took my time and looked at the labyrinth etched into the wall and traced my finger around the maze and to the center. My mind was as clear as the sound of Chris Martin’s (lead singer of Coldplay) soulful voice in my ears.
I made my way to the Pit Center, this was rare for me for many reasons I will not detail. A little grotto directly across from the statue of Big Red served as a great resting point to look over campus fields, Scholars Commons and the final days of construction of JP’s diner. I stood here for some time, transfixed in the daydream of a 2 A.M. milkshake.
This was where my mind officially shut off and sometime later I plopped onto my bed back in my Roncalli single. I was tired, still bloated, and once more nostalgic. I began thinking about how three years ago I lived in the triple next door as a freshman. I thought about who I was then and who I am now and how this school has shaped me into the person I am right now.
Then another thought crossed my mind, I would not have had this inner existential monologue had I not taken the time out of my day and slowed my pace.
Though slow walkers are undeniably the worst people, I have an understanding for why they do so. Slow walkers do not crawl the halls to agitate people. They may be on an internal journey of self-discovery for all we know and could care less about the speed their feet move.
I do not endorse slow walking between classes when the halls are packed shoulder to shoulder. But, if you glance behind you and see no one, take some time, hurry up and slow down. Who knows what you could get out of the experience.