Hey, it's Major. Over the past few years, I've had the great privilege of sharing poetry with you

and offering a daily moment to pause and slow down. Today, we're revisiting one of my favorite episodes

from my time on the show. I hope you enjoy this selection.

I'm Major Jackson, and this is The Slowdown.

In young adulthood, long before children, jobs, home ownership, my evenings felt like a blank canvas of cultural and spiritual possibility. During the day, I followed and delivered on my expected routines.

I went to work, I completed tasks, I paid my rent and utilities.

I might even have checked in on family.

But then came the hours for which spontaneity and exploration ruled.

I went to dance clubs, jazz concerts, art galleries, independent films,

bookstore readings, coffee houses, underground hip-hop battles. I made new friendships and deepened old ones. I catered to my senses. I was omnivorous. I ate cuisines new to my palate at restaurants

suggested by friends. After a modern dance concert or performance art show, my body was full of the

sweetness of Korean kimchi and Spanish paillas and the fire of Indian Vindalus and Sichuan hot pots.

I wandered with no sense of destination.

There was no planning or scheduling.

Just whatever the city I was in had to offer me at that moment.

It was communion with the world. I lived by the phrase on a whim.

I enjoyed walking to the next adventure down alleys where shadows ruled, where car lights and street

lamps did not reach. When I passed through a dark door and music entered inside my chest as a bass thump,

all the better. The experience was like being in the throes of research, feeling myself grow from

experiences that cracked me into a wholeness in which there was no separation of body and mind,

just the music of living. Desire and openness seemed essential, and I felt I could go on in this

state. I felt a joyous connection to all around me, artists and writers and musicians, thinkers

...