I live in Charlotte, North Carolina so the weather is already starting to warm up. Thankfully! This means that I have slowly been able to get outside more and enjoy two of my favorite activities—walking and biking. I’m not really sure exactly when I became an avid walker (it’s not exactly the “toughest” exercise in my circle of friends), but I definitely am. I love everything about it. I think traveling helped me appreciate walking. It’s the best way to explore and get a feel of a new city. And just last year I bought a bicycle for the first time since I was probably in middle school—now I ride every chance I get. I had completely forgotten what life looked like from the seat of a bike. As I walked and biked around the city this week, I learned a lesson about perspective that has stuck with me.
One of my favorite Charlotte stories dates back to the Revolutionary War. Legend has it that after 16 days of fierce battle, general Cornwallis called for his troops to retreat because “this place is a damned hornet’s nest”—referring to the relentless fighting of the people of Charlotte. To this day, the city wears this nickname with pride (i.e. The Charlotte Hornets).
I was reminded of this story as I rode my bike passed the courthouse where this battle took place. But it wasn’t the courthouse that reminded me. It was the slow climb of peddling up the hill that leads to the courthouse. There was something about the hill pushing against my body and bike that triggered the memory of this story.
I could vaguely see through the passing cars, streetlights and skyscrapers and imagine the landscape of a battlefield. I have driven by this same intersection a thousand times in my life, but life is always moving so fast out of the windows of my car that I miss much more than I see. I have lived in Charlotte my entire life and never realized that the city is built on top of a hill. You don’t feel hills the same in a car as you do on a bike—or even walking for that matter. And I’ve had similar experiences walking down streets that I’ve driven down a thousand times. The slow pace of walking allows you notice tiny details that you could never catch in a car or on a bike.
I share this not just to celebrate the hidden benefits of biking and walking. But as a reminder that the pace at which we live our lives shapes how we see the world.
We generally talk about perspective in our culture in terms of distance. When we give a broad summary we say it is a high level summary and when we want to emphasize details we “dig in” or “get down to it.” But how fast or slow we move through life also shapes our perspective. Like a car, a fast-paced life may take you farther than you could ever go walking, but you will inevitably miss details—which is not always bad. Likewise, slowly moving though life may grant you contemplation to appreciate nuances and details, but you miss the thrill of speed or novelty you wouldn’t have experienced otherwise.
Luckily, we have some control over this—some of us more than others. When we reach burn out from going too fast, its life’s way of reminding us about pace and perspective. And when we reach stagnation and boredom, we feel the urge to speed up and explore. Choosing the pace that you move through life is a skill set that’s easily forgotten. Many of us just let the random spinning of life determine what we see and what we miss, while life’s walking shoes, bike, and car are there for us to decide, how do we want to explore the world today?
Love this, Travis! So true. (I also had no idea why the basketball team was the Hornets. That’s some fun trivia!) Thank you.