On Mastering the Art of Going Slow

Especially when “going slow” feels viscerally wrong

A couple years ago, I wrote a blog titled “Mastering the Art of Saying No.” It marked the beginning of a journey I didn’t even realize I was embarking on at the time—one that saw me finally learn how to set boundaries and thus hang up my people-pleaser hat. (I still accidentally end up wearing that hat from time to time, but The Great Wall of China wasn’t built in a day).

I was 23 at the time. Now, at 28, I find myself at the start of a new journey. This time, it’s one where I try to rewire my brain into believing that going slow is something good, even after ages of doing the exact opposite.

I was not made for the rat race. It’s a realization that I’ve carried with me for quite some time now and one that constantly nags at the back of my mind every time I do try to take part in said race. I am very prone to burnout and with that burnout usually comes depressive episodes. Still, despite knowing myself, I’ve constantly ended up subjecting myself to burnout in the name of productivity, of making money, of being the good cog in the machine.

For the past five years, I’ve tried my best to balance being that cog in the machine with doing what I love, what truly makes me feel alive. And every time, without fail, I’ve ended up sacrificing the latter. That is why recently I made the—very scary—decision to opt out of the rat race for a while and see where this writing thing takes me. Hopefully (and I say that with both my fingers and my toes crossed) it takes me far.

When Rest Feels Wrong

The first month after leaving the “9-5 life” has mostly been a battle between the logical half of me and the emotional half. Logic tells me that no great thing worth pursuing comes overnight. The emotional half, however, has been experiencing an overwhelming feeling that I can only describe as “wrongness”.

That wrongness is essentially a variety of feelings wrapped up in a trenchcoat, including anxiety, dread, and even glimmers of joy. For the most part, though, it is an inexplicable feeling of guilt.

You see, working for myself now means I have a more flexible schedule, and more free time, even. And every time I dare to use that free time, guilt seeps in.

It rears its ugly head every time I dare to take my time and savor my coffee or breakfast in the morning. Every time I choose to work on one of my books instead of something that will actually make me money quickly. And especially when I decide to take a moment to rest: to read, to clean the house…to simply exist as a person and not a measure of productivity.

Even as I take my time writing this blog post, there is a voice in my mind telling me that I am wasting time—time that could be spent doing something more profitable…more productive.

I know it’s because we’ve been conditioned to be “on” all day every day. And for many of us, our brains have been hard-wired to operate by one specific schedule and nothing else. We have been told that the only key to success is producing and “grinding” nonstop and in turn we’ve been led to believe that our worth is directly tied to our productivity.

I know that that shouldn’t be the case. And I think acknowledging that might be the first step on this journey to mastering the art of going slow, guilt-free

Finding Balance

Of course, there are bills to pay, groceries to buy, and debts to clear, so there is work to do. But my hope is that someday soon I teach myself how to balance surviving with living. For me, that looks like meeting my deadlines and managing my income while still allowing myself to enjoy the things that make my jaw unclench and my shoulders relax.

That, my friends, means learning to go slow, without judgment, and not just when I absolutely need to.