Back porch:
Silence. A breeze rustles the leaves in the trees. The smell of coffee. A blue jay whisks by and screeches. More silence. A dragonfly buzzes. Another rustle. More silence. Stationary.
Front porch:
Distant murmurs. The sun peaks under the eaves. A car rolls past. Kids run by. Neighbors stop on the sidewalk for an exchange of pleasantries. A dog barks. Another car. Leisurely.
The Screen:
A cacophony. Three-second blurbs. Scroll and swipe. On to the next. Flashing colors. Free! You’ve won! Special offer! Attention seekers. Energetic.
Porch pace is boring. Not much happens, and certainly not quickly. Go inside to fill your mug and you won’t miss much, if anything.
Screen pace? Exciting. Do it now. Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it.
You’ll need to engage at screen pace, at least sometimes. The world moves at screen pace. But porch pace teaches you to appreciate where you are right now.
