Slowing Down in a Season of Speed
What if your next best step isn't a to-do list, but a simple, grounding question?
It was a day I had been eagerly waiting for: I was finally feeling better. After months of learning how to hack chemo’s side effects, I’d returned to a baseline of health. For once, I felt ready to dive back into all the things I’d put on hold.
As I approached my coaching session that morning – stepping into the space as a client – my mind was playing ping pong with various topics for our time. In the end, I settled on the only agenda I could imagine: organize the tasks that had been waiting on me for months.
I’m not sure we were two minutes in before the tears started. (Even as I reflect on it now, I picture myself a weary soldier, strolling a battlefield still smokey & warm, casualties strewn about – stumbling toward some next thing.) The truth of the matter is this: I wasn’t in a state to do much of anything.
At this point — nearly twelve months into my cancer + chemo journey — I had been holding things together inside a season of prolonged vulnerability: fear-inducing medical bills, entrepreneurial risk, limits in health and energy. There had also been moments of remarkable relief: friends showering encouragement, servant-hearted medical staff, and surprising provisions that can still make my head spin.
The point is this: all of it had turned me into a different version of myself — and the next best step (it turns out) was not whipping up a Master Project List and diving in.
Things had happened here.
Here’s a secret: I have an inordinate capacity to get surprised, over and over again, by all of the human parts of being human.
I wonder if you can relate?
A health crisis or some other disruption asked for your attention. You weathered a season of transition — a move, a change, growth, graduation. Maybe even great news? Then, when you finally found a minute to catch your breath, your first instinct was to put your head down and get quickly back to work.
Here’s the trick of it: life unfolding unlocks new parts of us. And because this is the case, so often the most human (and most strategic!) thing we can do — even as the whirlwind spins — is to pause and let our bodies, our brains, and our stories catch up with our circumstances.
By the time I left my coaching session that morning, having been met with thoughtful questions and generous space to process, I had traded in my cape for one simple, modest question: what is it that needs to happen today?
This was my new daily habit.
Friend: it’s hard to explain the flourishing freedom I walked inside of as the next weeks and months unfolded. That one simple question was a kind companion, supporting me to make meaningful progress in places that mattered most, while also gathering together all the bits of myself.
Make no mistake: this was a very different way of re-engaging than my modus operandi. And there were days when I had to rehearse that question a dozen times over! But slowly, my body began to see and feel the benefits of downshifting – from a frenzied pace, where activity and progress was only surface deep to a more spacious tempo, where my soul had room to breathe and I could see new parts of me come alive to various priorities, new and old.
The deeper work will always wait. And I have no doubt that I could have taken the “chemo-rebound” express lane back into all the things – but it’s helpful to remember that our bodies and our stories don’t move at that pace. They are lived page by page, at the rate it takes a person to change. And, as another brilliant coach of mine once said: “real change happens to real people real slow.”
This means that – sooner or later – we will all benefit from slowing down inside seasons of speed. In hopes of offering kind companionship for any of you feeling the tug of that invitation, below are four different routes you might consider.
(Feel free to pick just one OR you might like to cycle thru each one of these, week by week, for a month.)
As you consider this chapter inside of your journey – the speed, the scale, the stakes –
Does some part of you need a different approach?
Do you find yourself needing to be on the receiving end of good questions and generous space?
*A little house cleaning before I leave you today: When I created this space here at Substack, I intentionally included a feedback option at the end of each post because I value your honest thoughts. My heart sunk earlier this week when I realized that I had missed dozens of your comments (even a couple of voice memos) because the system — new to me! — did not alert me along the way, nor did it capture info from those who responded. My apologies to each one of you who so kindly engaged, yet heard nothing back from me…
NOTE: if you have already posted a comment or voice memo & you’re willing to identify yourself, I’d love to be in touch! Please drop a note back this way. (OR comment afresh today and we can test out the new settings I now have in place!) UP TO THIS POINT IN TIME — all of your feedback has been anonymous, unless you posted your comment to Substack.
Moving forward, you’ll see both options: your feedback will remain 100% anonymous, unless you identify yourself (or post your comment to Substack). Offering a safe space for complete honesty still feels valuable to me — there are moments when some piece of feedback OR some part of your story feels safer without going on record. At the same time, I love to be personally in touch whenever it makes sense on your end.
Bottom line: hearing from you is a delightful + gracious gift! I love hearing your different points of view, requests for topics I cover here, or ways your story is connecting with mine. This is how community is built — brick by brick. (And because this is the case, I encourage you to post your comments to Substack as often as you’re comfortable, so that our entire community can benefit from your thoughts, questions, and ideas!)
With gentle intentions…
Were these thoughts helpful? Feedback for next time?! Share your thoughts in a voice memo by clicking below!
(Please note: your feedback is 100% anonymous by design, making this a safe space to share anything—from insights to heartfelt reflections. I’d love the chance to connect personally, so if it feels right, I welcome you to identify yourself.)
Such a good word, JT. Taking it into my day.
JT, I have been staring at my screen struggling to find adequate words to describe how beautiful and helpful this post was, and is to me. Today. At this season in my life. I surrender trying to describe and just profoundly thank you with tears and a grateful heart for this - trusting you will somehow know in your soul that this creation birthed in your heart/mind is truly life-giving.