Slowing down to move fast

Note to the reader: This is a repost from LinkedIn

Slowing down to move fast, or why I choose to rest. Last week during a 3-day training program, I made a choice that would have felt impossible to me years ago: I opted out of the elective modules to simply rest and reflect–to be fair, that was an option presented which make the choice obvious to me since it was clear that I needed it.

In our achievement-oriented culture, there’s a persistent myth that our worth is tied to our productivity. This false belief suggests that if we’re not constantly doing, we’re somehow failing or being lazy.

What I’m learning, particularly as I’ve gotten older, is that the urge to slow down isn’t laziness at all – it’s a biological signal worth listening to. There’s a clarity that comes with age and experience about when to push and when to pause. Perhaps this is part of where the saying “Youth is wasted on the young” is getting at.

When we’re constantly giving our all to our jobs, side projects, and responsibilities, we leave no space for deep thinking, creativity, or even understanding who we truly are.

I find that I can only sustain focused productivity for a few hours daily. Working beyond that point often leads to diminishing returns and, eventually, burnout. Yet somehow, society has normalized the expectation of constant productivity with terms like “996” which refers a work schedule in China where employees are expected to work from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., six days a week, or 60+ hour work weeks.

This reminds me of the concept of “lying flat” (“tang ping” in Mandarin) or “quiet quitting” which describes personal rejections of societal pressures to overwork and over-achieve.

Perhaps it doesn’t need to be this way, that our work can sustainable, productive, even joyful.

This weekend, I’m breaking my usual pattern. No side projects. No getting ahead for next week. Just rest. I’m sharing this because I suspect I’m not alone in struggling with the guilt that comes with choosing recovery.

In my twenties, I might have pushed through, worn the exhaustion like a badge of honor. Now I recognize that was never sustainable or even effective. But what if creating space for ourselves isn’t self-indulgence but necessary maintenance? What if resting isn’t the opposite of productivity but a crucial component of sustainable achievement? Perhaps this is the wisdom that comes with experience – understanding that our energy is finite and worthy of protection.