Slow Down!

I was bombing tests because I misread the questions. My essays were rushed, messy, and filled with mistakes — sometimes even unreadable. I half-assed homework every night just to get back to whatever I thought was more “fun.” I thought speed was efficiency. But really, I was burning through everything and retaining nothing.

One day, during a school transfer interview, the admissions officer looked at me and said, “I’m not sure if you’re careless, or just scared to slow down.” I didn’t say anything back. Because in that moment, I didn’t know either.

I’ve been told to slow down my whole life. Teachers have constantly reminded me, “Brij, if you want to do well in my class or in life, you need to slow down and pay more attention to detail.” But I sucked at it. Reading every word in a book felt like torture. I rushed through tests just to get them over with. Slow, hands-on stuff like pottery or arts and crafts? Instantly bored.

Luckily for me, a very important holiday was coming up: Mother’s Day. I wanted to surprise my mom by joining her in one of her favorite activities. So I signed us up for a yoga class at a nearby studio — the first yoga class I had ever taken.

We sat in the very back of the room so the instructor wouldn’t see me. At the start of class, I thought to myself, “Only one hour, I can do this.” But as we went through each movement and breath, the most surprising thing happened.

I liked it.

There was something calming about it. I felt the long, painful stretch in my hip. The kind my body had probably needed for years. I noticed my breath for the first time. I started learning where it began, where it ended, and everything in between.

I got home that night and felt something new: the urge to reflect. I opened my laptop and pulled up my old assignments and tests. I saw rushed work, cut corners, missed details, and red marks everywhere. It wasn’t just one year, it was a pattern.

I knew I needed to change. If I wanted to get an A on a test — let alone succeed in life — I had to slow down. So I paid for three more yoga classes and went back. No water bottle, no mat, no fancy gear. Just a willingness to try.

At first, I was terrible. I fell out of poses. I forgot the names. I looked around constantly.
But that’s the beauty of yoga: whether you’re a beginner or a pro, there’s always more to learn.

Week by week, things started to shift. When the instructor said “Chaturanga,” I didn’t panic, I just moved. When my teacher handed out a test, I underlined key words, reread each question, and actually took my time.

My grades started improving. I made new friends. I even got better at basketball.
Eventually, I found myself teaching yoga in Central Park to complete strangers. Something I never would’ve imagined a few years before.

I still struggle with slowing down. But I know I can work through it — one breath at a time.