Hi there, it's Major.

Today, we're reaching into the archives to bring you an episode from Ada Limon's time as host.

I'm thrilled to revisit one of her episodes with you.

And don't worry, the team is hard at work on a relaunch with a new host.

I'm Ada Limeon, and this is The Slowdown.

As so many of us work to persist on the hedonic treadmill, to find more pleasure, to find some sort of happiness, it sometimes feels like we are acting out of desperation. Maybe this will fix

me. Maybe this. What about microdosing or microderm abrasion? Maybe something micro will fix the micro me in this macro world. I am guilty of all of this. I want to be made better. I want the world to be made better. I want a quick fix or even just a fix, a slow fix would do just fine.

What I am learning to do, however, is lean into pleasure a little when it comes,

to savour it. I think it might be working, too. At least I hope it is. I remember once when I

was 15, and unsure of whom to ask for things, God,

goddesses, the universe, the ocean. I remember I'd climb out onto my rooftop and stare at the clouds

and then turn to watch people down below. I loved that rooftop because I was in the sky and in the

world at the same time. I could watch his tourist walked into various shops and I could hear

the chef named Curtis down below singing his country songs as loud as he could. I was both in the

world and not in the world and at 15, that's exactly what I

needed. I remember finding that song, Your Song, by Elton John, with the second verse that started,

I sat on the rooftop and kicked off the moss, while a few of these verses, while they got me quite

cross. And I felt like those lyrics were made just for me, someone sitting on a rooftop, all

up in her own feelings. I think about that rooftop a lot, because it was where I learned my version

of prayer. I would ask the clouds and the sky

for a good life. I'd ask the clouds and the sky to be okay. Today's poem is that kind of prayer,

a prayer for pleasure, for the brief moment of relief to be made whole again.

...