I can find lessons and inspiration in anything. Today: what I’ve learned from sloths. Seriously, they’re little Zen masters!
As you might expect if you’ve seen “Zootopia” or randomly YouTubed these adorable critters (I did, and it’s an excellent rabbit hole), sloths have perfected the art of chilling.
They spend around 60 percent of their time either sleeping or meditatively moving through the rainforest, peacefully communing with nature, slowly eating a steady diet of green leaves (and occasionally savoring a tasty hibiscus, one petal at a time), all while appearing unwaveringly serene (they’re born with upturned mouths and a pleasant, gentle gaze).
Why do I know this? Fair question. Houston isn’t exactly sloth country.
It’s all from a sweet little book called “Life in the Sloth Lane: Slow Down and Smell the Hibiscus,” by Lucy Cooke. My sister Blair bought it for me for Christmas.
We thought it was funny at the time because I’ve always poked fun at Blair for being on the slower side in most things she does. I even took the liberty of designating the sloth as her spirit animal, to which I think she took some offense. Maybe I overstepped.
Anyway, my sister’s pace has always stood out to me because it’s in stark contrast to my normal mode of operating — in a rush. It’s a trait that I’ve long found both endearing and annoying.
But this darn book has made me change my tune. Turns out, I want to be more like a sloth, too.
Here’s some other reasons for their awesomeness.
They’re slow on purpose. Sloths are physically incapable of moving faster than 1 mile per hour, so they expend less energy and remain less obvious to sharp-eyed predators.
Their body temperature is the lowest of all mammals, and the three-toed species has no sweat glands. Again, these creatures are literally chill. They’re also great huggers. Baby sloths hug their mommas as they move through the treetops for the first six to nine months of life. Who doesn’t love baby hugs?
But in all (well, semi) seriousness, the reason we’re talking sloths right now is because anyone who can model ease and persistent peacefulness in this frenzied world is worthy of some attention. Cooke writes that sloths can “inspire us to slow down, stop to enjoy the little things, and come up relaxed, centered, and smiling.”
If you, like me, could use more of that, maybe the sloth could be your new hero, too. You might check out this book, give sloths a Google, or even just browse sloth memes (there are some great ones). I suggest getting to it right now.
But, hey, take your time.