Be Kind, Rewind | Nostalgia, Patience & The Art of Slowing Down

Be Kind, Rewind | Nostalgia, Patience & The Art of Slowing Down

Be Kind, Rewind | Nostalgia, Patience & The Art of Slowing Down

A nostalgic reminder about patience, compassion, and small acts of thoughtfulness.


Do you remember VHS tapes?

The clunk of pushing the tape into the player, the fuzz and grain before the film began.

This kind of analogue vibe fills me with happy nostalgia.

I still have a few videos from when I was a kid — Tina Turner concerts, tapes and tapes of Count Duckula, and those home-recorded ones from off the telly. Usually with two and a half films on them (the half because you didn’t want to waste the full potential of the tape), a smudged, handwritten label peeling at the edge, listing what you think might be on it: Liar Liar. Ghostbusters. Vertigo?

Having a movie night and going to the video store was my absolute favourite thing to do.

My mum would drive us down into town to the wonderland that was Blockbuster to choose our films for the weekend.

I still remember the grey carpet, the vibrant blue of the signs and labels, and the rows and rows of films.

It was such a treat to stroll down the aisles in awe, brushing your fingers across the empty video cases.

You took your time in the video store.

That’s a bit of a lost art now, isn’t it?

A lost moment.

Mum would always let us get two or three films, so choosing the right combination was very important.

There was a little smiley-faced sticker:

“Be Kind, Rewind.”

At the time, it just meant one thing — don’t be the person who forgets to rewind the tape.

But looking back, I think it was about more than that.

It was a quiet reminder to think of the next person.

To do the small, thoughtful thing that makes someone else’s life a bit easier.

There was nothing worse than taking all that precious time choosing the right films, sliding the tape in, and realising the last person hadn’t rewound it.

Another small practice in patience — pressing the rewind button and waiting through the squeal of the tape whizzing back to the beginning.

These days, there’s no rewinding required — just streaming, scrolling, moving on.

Which is great (where would we be without it?), but I miss the pause.

Be Kind, Rewind feels like a lesson we’ve quietly left behind — about patience, presence, and small acts of consideration.

The world could use a few more rewinds, don’t you think?

The world moves fast.

But kindness, like a good film, is always worth another look.


What was your favourite thing to do as a kid?

Do you remember Blockbuster?

What moments in your life help you pause?