Rush Slowly
(aka How to Be a Cheetah in a Turtle Shell)

Let me hit you with something radical: rush slowly.
Yes, I know. That makes about as much sense as “jumbo shrimp” or “airline comfort.” But hear me out.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that we’re all hauling ass through life like there’s a prize for finishing early. Spoiler: there’s not. No one hands you a golden trophy for burnout and tight shoulders. And yet, we hustle. We grind. We “rise and grind,” even though most of us just want to “rise and sit quietly with coffee until we feel human.”

I’m guilty of it too. I’ve caught myself looking at the clock thinking, I don’t have enough time today.
But then I do the math (badly, but I try):

Now sure, factor in commuting (let’s call that 2 hours), dinner (1 hour, unless you cook like you’re on a cooking show, in which case... good luck), and the nightly routine of pretending your phone isn't controlling your soul—maybe that’s another hour. You’re still left with 4 solid hours.

Four hours! That’s like two movies, or an entire hike, or 45 minutes of scrolling followed by 3 hours of wondering why you’re sad.

What are we doing with those hours?

Because here’s the thing: we act like we’re in this massive race. To the top. To the best version of ourselves. To some dream job or abs situation or bank account with commas. But what exactly are we racing toward? And more importantly—what are we missing on the way?

Yesterday, Jo and I sat on the beach. We ate chips. Watched the sun do its little dramatic dip into the ocean. Looked for that mystical green flash like a couple of hopeful wizards. And I thought—this is it. This is the good stuff. No rush. Just vibes.

We’ve been sold the lie that faster is better. That if you don’t have a 5-year plan and a productivity app and a color-coded calendar, you’re failing. But maybe success looks more like remembering to breathe deeply in the grocery store parking lot. Or calling your best friend just because. Or walking your dog with no AirPods in and actually noticing the sky for once.

That’s what I mean by rush slowly.

Get sh*t done, sure. But don’t let your to-do list make you forget you’re a human being, not a productivity robot fueled by oat milk and anxiety.

Be like a cheetah… but with a turtle shell.
Fast when it counts. Protected. Grounded. Weirdly adorable.

And if you're like me and sometimes feel like you're self-sabotaging every time you actually relax, let me gently suggest a book that might help: The Big Leap by Gay Hendricks. It breaks down how we hold ourselves back from our own happiness like total goofballs. I’ve shouted this book out before, and I’ll probably do it again because it's just that good.

Grab it here if you want.

So yeah—let's stop rushing to the end of the day, the week, the year. Let’s walk it out. Feel the breeze. Let weird little magic moments sneak in. Because this isn’t a race, friends. This is a ride. And you don’t want to get to the end only to realize you forgot to look out the window.

Rush slowly.

– Todd