Addicted to Urgency

What if the pace we default to is limiting our impact?

While trekking to Everest Base Camp, my guide said something that stuck with me: “If you think you’re going slow, go slower.” At first, it felt counterintuitive. But over time, I realized this idea wasn’t just about trekking—it was about how we navigate life.

We are a culture addicted to urgency and the next dopamine hit. Speed can blur judgment, reduce innovation, and disconnect us from what matters most. People who know when to slow down are the ones best equipped to solve complex problems and drive meaningful progress. But when speed becomes our currency, we race through our calendars, inboxes, and even relationships with a kind of breathless urgency — believing that faster equals better. We are praised for our responsiveness, but we are not necessarily rewarded for being thoughtful. And if I'm honest? Many of us don’t know how to stop or recognize that we're even doing this.

This past weekend, I came across an article by Arthur C. Brooks in The Atlantic titled "‘Success Addicts’ Choose Being Special Over Being Happy."

In it, he writes:

Success also resembles addiction in its effect on human relationships. People sacrifice their links with others for their true love, success.

Ouch.

Because when we’re addicted to the chase, we often trade satisfaction for stimulation. We forget to ask whether all our motion is moving us toward what matters. When we move too fast, we default to reaction over reflection. We lead from urgency instead of intention. We miss what people really need because we’re already onto the next thing.

But when we go slower:

• We make better decisions.

• We connect more deeply.

• We become more creative, more compassionate, and — ironically — more impactful.

People who know when to pause are the ones who can see what others overlook. They create space — for strategy, for empathy, for change.

Look at your calendar. Look at your pace. Look at how you measure worth. Is it time, perhaps, to slow down?

What if going slower isn’t falling behind? What if it’s finally catching up to yourself?

So how do we begin?

You don’t need to cancel your meetings or move to the mountains. Slowing down can be as simple as building in 10 minutes of stillness at the start of your day — no phone, no multitasking, just breathing and noticing what’s on your mind.

Or try a “pause practice” at work: before you respond, react, or say yes — take a beat. Ask: "Does this move me closer to what matters? Or am I just keeping pace?"

What’s one small shift you can make this week to go slower? Not to fall behind… but to move through life more fully present to yourself and those around you.