Go With The Slow - Week 2 Reflections

Welcome to Summer of Slow Reflections - a weekly(ish) blog on my personal experiences as I attempt to hit the brakes on life's relentless pace. Each week, I'll share insights from the front lines of my summer of deceleration - the daily struggle to simply be present without jumpstarting into the next thing. To marinate in a moment without stirring. To gaze at a cloud without checking my phone

The Anxiety of Doing … Nothing?

Confession: I am a relentless hustler, always in motion, constantly striving. So my Summer of Slow fills me with equal parts excitement and dread. ??

Does any of the below resonate with you??

? You take a day off work, but you can't shake the obsessive need to check emails, imagining your inbox flooding uncontrollably.?

? You lie down to read, but guilt gnaws at your core about all the "productive" tasks you could be doing instead.??

? You treat yourself to a luxurious massage, yet your mind races more frantically than your newly loose muscles could ever relax.

If this sounds painfully familiar, you're not alone. Relaxing should be easy, natural, right? But for me, and so many others, it's an art tragically lost in our feverishly "doing" culture.

On the surface, my recent travels through London and Edinburgh might have looked like a wanderlust dream of slowness. But I've been silently battling to truly disengage in a way I can't remember - no laptop, no work emails pulling my mind back in.?

At the recent?InsideOut Awards?Day Summit, I discussed the concept of my “summer of slow" with?Rob Stephenson. I was surprised by how deeply it resonated with others - this idea of sitting with the discomfort of simply being, not planning, not knowing what's next. It seems we all crave that permission to seriously, unapologetically slow down sometimes.

But letting myself truly hit the brakes feels immensely uncomfortable for another reason - the nagging fear that the whole world is speeding on without me, leaving me behind. As my hustle dissolves, that anxious voice pipes up, taunting me with perceived opportunities missed, achievements falling behind, a self-imposed rat race I'm losing by merely pausing.

I felt this sharply even wandering Edinburgh's ancient cobblestone streets. A gnawing sense that by simply being present, I'm failing to seize some potential prospect that could propel my ambitions further, faster. The irrational fear that if I'm not in a state of constant doing, the world will blaze on and outpace me.

Books in my bookstack like "Ambition Monster" by?Jennifer Romolini and "Do Nothing" by?Celeste Headlee illuminate how our culture has conflated productivity with moral virtue over rest. So it's no wonder relaxing feels uncomfortable, even wrong. I see this toxic mindset everywhere, even on vacation - being first off the plane or train, rushing after landing, asking for the bill before the meal is done, setting 6am alarms to pack in as much "doing" into each day as inhumanly possible.

Part of me knows this is a privilege. But I'm also realizing how immensely difficult it is for me to simply slow down. Any act of "doing" soothes my inner drill sergeant's harsh demands, and I'm helplessly attracted to busyness like a moth to a flame. Existing without an agenda or checklist feels like cosmic failure.

The very notion of the "pause" provokes profound anxiety. Studies show many people would literally prefer electric shocks over just sitting still with their own thoughts. Our brains have uncoupled thinking from stillness -?motion is the norm we crave, anything else is dangerously unproductive.

I have all the other anxieties, so why am I surprised that "relaxation anxiety" is real too? A paradoxical, guilt-ridden unease that washes over me when trying to pump the brakes on perpetual motion. Even when every fiber of my being craves veg-on-the-couch stillness, that nagging inner voice sneers "You're wasting time! Get up and do something!"??

Of course, I know the harsh truth - that this hustle-and-grind lifestyle is unsustainable. The last few years have been hard - from losing my dad, caring for my mom's Alzheimer's, navigating workplace politics and feeling undervalued, and drifting friendships have brought with them so much anxiety, a constant thrumming extra beat in my chest.

As I preach to others, chronic stress wreaks havoc, mentally and physically. Finding moments of true rest and relaxation isn't a luxury - it's a vital necessity. Pastimes that activate our "rest and digest" nervous system are essential, whether gardening, journaling, or simply letting the mind wander in a warm bath.??

For the perpetually restless like me, meditation itself can often feel too intense. But any gentle (say that again, gentle) activity that absorbs your focus, allowing the mind's gears to temporarily disengage? That's the essence of slowing down.

And like all skills, it takes practice. I feel the guilt and anxiety acutely, realizing how I've been conditioned against simply being. But I must persist, (slowly) stretching those atrophied rest muscles.??

This counterculture, revolutionary act of doing...nothing...may just change my life. So I'll put down my phone, let the dusty task list (including cleaning my closet) wait, and indulge in the most decadent non-luxury of all - simply existing. My mind and body are starved for this pause. I deserve this break.

Let this be your permission too.