Between the Lines of Parkinson’s: Time is Ours
Since the launch of this new format, we have received many responses, messages, and personal accounts.
Many of you have shared how comforting it is to read words that bring to light experiences so often lived in silence.
Many of you have shared how comforting it is to read words that bring to light experiences so often lived in silence.
These exchanges remind us how essential it is to speak not only about the physical and visible aspects of Parkinson’s, but also about everything it transforms internally: our relationship with ourselves, with others, and with the world.
It is in this spirit that we invite you today to explore Time Is Ours.
Time as it is lived, felt, and transformed.
Before it is measured or organised, time is first and foremost lived.
There is the time of the body, inner time, sometimes out of step with the pace of the world.
There is shared time, outward time, the time we experience with others.
Time that stretches, slows, and sometimes becomes distorted.
Time we no longer fully control, but gradually learn to inhabit differently.
Slowness is one of those realities that is often misunderstood and difficult to live with.
It confronts each of us with the tension between inner rhythm and the speed of the world.
Yet over time, it can also become a space for attention, presence, and clarity.
This is what we would like to explore in this new newsletter. Not through figures or advice, but through a shared reflection: a different relationship with time, more human, more conscious, perhaps more truthful.
Many clients tell us how deeply their relationship with time has changed since living with Parkinson’s.
There is something unsettling about existing in a world that is constantly accelerating and no longer waits. At times, one can only watch, feeling powerless, as a collective movement continues without pause, like a conversation that has become too fast to follow.
This indifference creates a particular kind of loneliness: the feeling of no longer living in the same time as others.
We live in an era where immediacy has become the norm.
Everything must happen quickly, be understood quickly, be consumed quickly.
One client once said to us, “When my granddaughters talk among themselves, they go so fast that I can no longer understand. I don’t feel that I am the one who is slow, it’s them who are speeding up.”.
This remark captures a contemporary paradox: speed is no longer just a rhythm, it has become a moral value.
Those who move quickly appear efficient, useful, productive.
Those who slow down become a disruption. They break the general flow and create tension within the collective movement.
The gaze of others…and our own.
Many users tell us that the real difficulty may not even come from the slowness of the body, or sometimes of the mind, but from the way others look at them.
A look that grows impatient, hurried, sometimes irritated.
And so people apologise: for walking slowly, for searching for words, for no longer “keeping up”.
Slowness becomes something to correct, a constant effort to appear adapted.
This invisible pressure is exhausting, because it traps people in an inner struggle: the desire to go faster set against the awareness that this is not always possible.
Feelings of guilt, shame, or fear of being a burden may follow, gradually eroding self-confidence.
At times, it is even our own gaze upon ourselves that becomes heavy: the frustration of no longer moving as before, the irritation directed at our own slowness.
And yet, trying to conform to the pace of others only leads to exhaustion.
In constantly trying to keep up, we drift away from ourselves.
Life becomes an exercise in adaptation rather than an experience of living.
This is the harsh reality of a world that no longer knows how to wait: it imposes a single tempo on everyone, indifferent to differences, to ages, to bodies.
Chronos…
It is worth reminding ourselves that this relentless pace suits no one.
Younger generations struggle with it as well. Burnout is becoming more frequent, fatigue sets in earlier and earlier, and many people already feel exhausted before reaching their thirties.
Perhaps it is time to acknowledge that the problem is not slowness, but the pace society imposes on everyone.
In a world where the value of a life is often measured by what it produces, Parkinson’s disrupts this heavy pact with speed.
It forces a detour. And that detour can also open a new perspective.
Because slowness is not only a constraint. It is also another way of perceiving.
When one can no longer do everything quickly, one rediscovers what speed had erased.
Details return: the rhythm of breathing, the sound of footsteps, the warmth of the sun on the skin, the texture of fabric.
What society calls “a waste of time” is, in reality, reclaimed space.
Time that is inhabited rather than measured.
Slowness restores a forgotten form of listening: listening to the body, to the breath, to inner silence.
Slowness restores a forgotten form of listening: listening to the body, to the breath, to inner silence.
It reconnects gesture, thought, and emotion, a quiet coherence that speed had dissolved.
Where others pass without noticing, you may observe.
Where silence is filled with words, you may truly listen.
And where speed scatters, slowness can bring things together.
… or Kairos
It is interesting to note that the Greeks used two different words for “time”.
They used Chronos when referring to the quantity of time, and Kairos when referring to the quality of time. They naturally distinguished between how much time there is and how it is lived, whereas our contemporary civilisation has clearly favoured Chronos over Kairos.
They used Chronos when referring to the quantity of time, and Kairos when referring to the quality of time. They naturally distinguished between how much time there is and how it is lived, whereas our contemporary civilisation has clearly favoured Chronos over Kairos.
So how can we understand the idea of “quality of time” in a society that turns time itself into a commodity, a resource to be exploited, something to be optimised?
Under urgency, time is emptied of its substance.
Slowness, by contrast, restores its density.
It brings us back to a full experience: living with awareness, not to produce, but simply to be.
Like a barge on a river…
One client once said, “I have realised that the world around me moves so fast it forgets to live. I no longer have a choice. I live slowly, but I truly live, and I try to enjoy every moment that is given to me.”
These words suggest that when slowness is fully lived and given meaning, it can stop being perceived as a constraint.
It allows rediscovery, a renewed appreciation of the beauty of a world that speed had blurred.
A life that no longer tries to catch up with time, but to inhabit it.
A relearned sense of time that rediscovers simplicity, the richness of the present moment, and the truth of emotions.
To move more slowly in a hurried world is to become a witness to what others may miss.
It is to understand that slowness is not a weakness, but can become a strength. A way of preserving what matters, of staying grounded, of continuing to inhabit time rather than merely passing through it.
A refusal to be consumed by urgency, a way of protecting oneself amid the agitation of the world.
One user told us, “My life has become like a journey along a river, much slower, but far more enjoyable for noticing details and truly taking things in.”
And perhaps, in a world that runs without always knowing where it is going, those who move more slowly are also those who best understand what lived time truly is:
time measured not in seconds, but in awareness.
Important clarification:
We would like to make it clear that this perspective on slowness is in no way intended to minimise the very real difficulties that Parkinson’s disease can cause. We are fully aware of how challenging Parkinson-related slowness can be, how tiring and frustrating it may be, and how it can even give rise to entirely legitimate anger. These reflections are simply offered as an alternative way of looking at things, guided by kindness, in the hope that they may at times soothe, support, and help bring about positive experiences related to slowness, time, and rhythm, within a society that can often feel stressful.
This content may be important for people who need this natural solution. Thank you for sharing!
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Disclaimer:
Please note that this blog provides information about our AtremoPlus supplement and related topics.
This blog is not intended to provide medical advice. If you have medical questions, please consult your healthcare professional.