12/29/2025
I didn’t stop rushing because life got easier.
I stopped rushing because urgency was costing me everything.
There was a version of me who lived in constant urgency.
Early alarms.
Rushed mornings.
Mentally clocked in before my feet even hit the floor.
My life was ruled by deadlines, calendars, and other people’s expectations.
I told myself this was ambition.
That being needed meant being secure.
But underneath that urgency was fear.
Fear of falling behind.
Fear of slowing down long enough to question if this life even fit me.
The first crack came when my dad got cancer.
Watching someone who gave so much of his life to work suddenly face how fragile time really is changed me forever.
Then C-vid happened.
Millions lost their jobs overnight.
Careers wiped out.
Security gone with no warning.
That was the moment I couldn’t unsee the truth.
No job is secure.
No company is loyal.
And relying solely on a paycheck is an illusion we were taught not to question.
I had to let go of a belief that ran my life for years.
That urgency meant importance.
I was terrified that if I slowed down, everything would fall apart.
What I didn’t realize was that slowing down required trust.
And I hadn’t trusted myself yet.
Today my body feels calm.
My nervous system is steady.
My pace is intentional.
I protect my time, my energy, and my peace because I finally understand their value.
Here’s the truth I learned the hard way.
I used to think urgency meant success.
Now I know it actually meant fear and disconnection from myself.
And if you’re living in urgency right now, hear this.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not behind.
And slowing down won’t make you fall apart.
It might be the thing that helps you finally see clearly.