Slower

[Verse 1] I heard a podcast say “slow down,” like it’s simple advice, But it landed like a punch—clean, cold, precise. They called it some kina treadmill— That universal curse where the joy gets whittled. New house, new trip, new toy, first bite of dessert— At first it’s fireworks… then it’s “meh,” then it’s dirt. We normalize miracles like it’s nothing to do, We get bored of a blessing just ’cause it got familiar to you. And part of me likes that… when pain’s the guest. Because I know this grief will dull, I know it’ll rest. I know the ache will become tolerable, then thin, then gone— One day I’ll wake up and won’t even think about what I’m on. But then the other side hits me like a hard truth— If the treadmill steals pain… it steals joy too. [Hook] So how do you keep the good from fading out? How do you hold a moment without squeezing it down? How do you stop “amazing” from turning into “expected”? How do you stay grateful when comfort gets reckless? If time can numb the hurt, it can numb the light— So teach me how to stay here… teach me how to savor tonight. [Verse 2] They said savoring is presence— Not a slogan, not a quote, not a session. It’s noticing on purpose, extending the joy, Letting the moment last longer than the noise. Here and now—no receipts, no future, no rewind, Nothing that happened an hour ago gets to hijack my mind. Where I need to be after this? Doesn’t matter. What I should’ve said? Doesn’t matter. Just the breath, the warmth, the real— Like life’s not a schedule, life’s a thing you feel. And I’ll be honest, that sounds hard as hell, ’Cause my brain’s trained to sprint, trained to analyze, trained to excel. I’m always reaching—next step, next thing, next fix, Like enjoyment’s a pit stop, not a place to live. But what if the best thing I can do for me Is stop treating joy like it’s disposable scenery? [Bridge / Spoken Word] They said speed and impatience are the enemies of enjoyment. The lingering is the secret. Mindful awareness of your own positive experience. Not chasing… staying. Not consuming… tasting. [Verse 3] So maybe savoring is practice— A skill like strength, not a mood like magic. Like holding the first bite like it’s the first time, Like hearing laughter and refusing to let it slide. Like telling my nervous system: “We’re safe right now,” And letting “right now” be enough, no vow, no crown. ’Cause I don’t just want to survive the dark— I want to protect the light. I want to stop losing the outcome in the process— Even when the outcome is joy. [Outro] Slow down. Notice. Linger. Maybe that’s how you get off the treadmill— Not by running faster… But by finally feeling the ground.