Rethinking what it means to make a good impact
TSD #003 - tips & insights on cultivating a slower, well-rooted life
Welcome to the slow down, a column featuring tips and insights to create a slower, well-rooted life.
Thank you to those of you who made space to respond to my reader survey. It’s helping me think through how to best serve you all as my reading community. It also helps me to experience this space as an exchange, a shared space. Writing and sharing words on the internet can sometimes feel like speaking into a void. Thank you for reminding me that this community of readers is very much present, very much engaged, and very much so meeting me on the other sides of our screens with connection, openness, and grace. I appreciate it more than you know.
If you haven’t had a chance to fill out the survey, you can still do so here. I’ll be aggregating the responses and sharing them with you all so that you also know who is here, reading and thinking and slowing down alongside you.
Now, on to the the slow down for this week.
the slow down tip
Rethink what it means to make a good impact.
For years, I believed the only types of good work worth doing were the types of efforts that could change an entire neighborhood, an entire city, and perhaps even the entire world. This big picture view of what’s possible is inspiring, compelling even. However, as my life started to slow down both by circumstance and by choice, I realized how much more manageable and satisfying it can be to draw one’s locus of impact into a much smaller realm. Maybe “good impact” is to heal and strengthen my one’s own body. Maybe “good impact” is to do relational repair work within one’s family of origin. Maybe “good impact” is to stop trying to be good at everything and to instead focus on becoming better at the few things God has given us to do. Rethinking impact doesn’t mean our dreams for social change and collective healing go away. Rethinking impact is about focusing our efforts, our energies, and our gifts where they have the most impact—right here in our daily lives—and to see where that steady, daily, faithful dedication leads us.
nature speaks
It’s been hot here in Georgia. Has it been hot where you live too? We have multiple little gardens around our acre: perennial flowers in the ground, peas and sweet potatoes growing as row crops, a couple of raised beds with tomatoes and arugula, collections of potted plants (mostly a variety of mints), and then there’s the general landscaping around our porch which also features some stunning perennial flower shrubs. This whole list is to say—we’ve got a lot growing things to keep alive during these dog days of summer.
As I was watering my flower garden a few days ago, trying to saturate the earth before the sun was too high in the sky, I found myself thinking about how sweet it is that rain clouds blanket the sky in shady cover before the rain pours. Of course, this is simply how rain works, rain falls from clouds. But have you ever considered how harmful it would be to growing things if rain fell while the hot sun was still high in the sky, without cloud cover? Obviously, this doesn’t happen, but if it did, all of the plants would scalded, burned, and would not survive. It is not good to water plants when the sun is highest in the sky. It’s best to water them just before the sun rises or just after it sets. Nourishment takes roots under the cover of the cloud’s shadow, or in the relative coolness of a setting sun. This is a grace, I think.
Nature speaks: Sometimes clouds are protective. Sometimes we need periods of shadows and storms to adequately receive the nourishment we need most.
quotable
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack, a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
off the shelf
I’ve been reading this edition of Magnolia Journal. I grabbed it at the grocery store on my way to the airport last week and was especially delighted to read all of the cherry recipes. Not all recipes are created equal and my experience is that Magnolia does recipes incredibly well, so if you’re looking for some stellar, summer, cherry-based recipes, I highly recommend.
What are you reading this summer?
worth lingering over
This hasn’t been a very internet-full week for me. I’m behind on all my podcasts and my Youtube watching has been low. I was able to catch a few minutes of last night’s presidential debate, but I wouldn’t necessarily call that something worth lingering over.
If you’re able, get outside today, even if it’s hot. Commune with the birds who keep nesting on your porch. Pray for rain. Galavant across fields. Walk your dog to the park. Take the kids to the forest and follow their curious lead. Let the humidity stick to your skin. Summer is perfect for going slow, definitely worth lingering over.
Take it easy, beloveds. Catch you here next week.
in case you missed it
Last week’s The Slow Down is here.
The Slow Down from two weeks ago is here.
Here is a post I wrote last year about summers being perfect for going slowly.
Links to Stay In the Loop
/ Website
/ Instagram
/ Podcast
/ Archive



Oh! This musing on clouds...my goodness, that gives me food for thought. Isn't it funny when something that *seems* like it should be so obvious actually sneaks up on us?! That's how I feel, anyway. Thank you for the beautiful meditation.