Chasing Slow: A Book Review
A hot August day, borrowed inspiration from the library, and a wide open Saturday where I am impatiently waiting for said inspiration - that is how I came across Chasing Slow by Erin Loechner. It started out as a rented copy and is now a purchased one on my coffee table. It is a feeling unmatched when you borrow a book from the library only to be so dazzled by it that you must keep it for yourself.
In Chasing Slow, Erin redefines happiness, success, peace, priorities. With mishaps of her own and ones the world offers (her husband’s brain tumor, bankruptcy, losing her father-in-law, instant fame), she cultivates distinctive awakenings that help guide her through her next steps in life. She embraces the minimalistic lifestyle, ventures off the beaten path of now, now, now and travels a road less traveled by: slow living.
Erin Loechner is more than a writer. She’s a human. A human you can sit and sip lattes with. A human who will offer great insight while requesting your point of view and sacred thoughts as well. She is not only a human, a writer, a designer, a wife, a mother – she is a woman of God and her grace, sophistication, and intelligence is woven throughout this wordy peek into her brain.
As I read, I did not feel like I was being talked to, I felt as if I was being talked with. There was raw honesty and vulnerability in this piece that makes the reader feel like you are right next to Erin as she is so kindly sharing her thoughts. Her thoughts that stay in your mind - that carry themselves along for the ride each day. Thoughts that remind you to set the phone aside, play catch with your little one uninterruptedly, and eat at the table as a family. When you’re having a conversation with someone – are you just waiting for your turn to speak? Or listening? Actively listening.
I’m not the Kindle type. Call me an old soul or stuck in my twenty-something going on sixty years old ways, but I’m telling you, don’t read this on the Kindle. Read it by holding the spine in your hand and physically turning the paper pages. The effort that was put into the design and (yes, personal polaroid photos) of the book should be appreciated at the physical source.
One of the chapters that spoke to me most was Chapter 9: The Dirty Secret of More. Erin defines the difference between more and many even though we often, mindlessly, use these words interchangeably.
Many is measurable (we have many coffee cups, we owe many large sums of student debt). More is immeasurable (we want more coffee cups [how many?], we need more student aide [how much?]. These days, we always need more. We are expected of more.
As I begin my journey through this minimalistic lifestyle, I thank Erin for sharing her thoughts, the library for having this book available to borrow, and a husband that agrees that less is more.
The good kind of more.