When I was in the Scouts, I played the drums in the band. I was good enough to play on the annual whitwalk and for the district St George’s Parade. Good enough, but not brilliant. What myself and another scout did was to at times play just half a beat slower a minute than we should have done. It slowed things down. Thus far on my sabbatical, I have made space to walk half a pace slower.

Walking that bit slower enables you to see more.

Working the ground at the allotment a bit slower gives opportunity to do till a piece of land more effectively.

Reading a little slower enables you to grasp an argument more easily and give time to wander down avenues that footnotes were designed to create

Breathing a little slower makes you delight in the preciousness and precariousness of life.

Listening a little slower creates more space for another to be hallowed.

At least this is something I am learning slowly, deliberately and with the hope that such gifts will not end towards the end of October.