Does Slowing Down Mean Falling Behind?
We recently hosted Sat Sarbat and Satmukh in our community, a married couple who have spent more than twenty years teaching Kundalini yoga across China, Turkey, Australia and Europe, and who built a school devoted to helping local communities of teachers stand on their own. I expected a gentle conversation about slowing down. What we received went far deeper. It changed how I think about pace, about burnout, and about the quiet excuses we all carry.
You can watch our full conversation below. If you would rather read, here is what stayed with me.
What does slow living actually mean?
It has almost nothing to do with moving slowly. That was the first thing our guests dismantled. One of them built his first company in Shanghai, one of the fastest cities on earth, and even there the practice was the same. Slow means being present enough to feel your own rhythm and honest enough to respect it.
"Slow is about the presence and the awareness, and allowing ourselves to be in tune with our own rhythm."
His wife described it as a digestion. Our minds move faster than our bodies, so we live three steps ahead of ourselves, and the body gets left behind. The shoulders ache, the lower back complains, and we book a massage without ever asking why. Slowing down is simply catching up with yourself. Feeling what is happening here, instead of chasing what should happen there.
They also offered a question I have not stopped using since. What I was doing yesterday, is it still valid now? Does it still resonate within me? Most of us never ask. We run, run, run, and then we hit the wall.
Does slowing down mean falling behind?
No, and the reason surprised me. In their teaching, prosperity is not about chasing. It is about becoming someone things can arrive to.
"Prosperity is about letting things come to you. If you are busy running after them, this is not prosperity."
That does not mean sitting back and waiting. It means acting from listening rather than from fear. You still plan. You still schedule. You still work hard. But the work comes from a quieter place, and it stops costing you your health. One of them said something I found very honest: he is busier today than he ever was when he was chasing his own success. The difference is that he is no longer stressed. When you serve from a listening place, you may do more than before. It just no longer eats you.
Why do we burn out even when life looks good?
Because burning out requires shutting down your own sensitivity. That was their sobering answer. To push past every signal from your body and your heart, you first have to stop listening to them, and that means the connection to yourself is already thin. They put it plainly: people often need to exhaust themselves completely before they will consider that the answer might be within. Our culture just makes the burning far too fast.
Their teacher had a line they still quote, that it takes as much energy to be neurotic as to be spiritual. The energy you spend running from yourself is the same energy a morning practice would take. It is not about finding more hours. It is about where the hours already go.
And you do not have to wait for the wall. Their advice was small and doable. Say stop earlier. Ten minutes walking in the park. A coffee taken in silence. Tiny pauses that break the trance and let a different quality of information reach you.
If this is the wall you feel yourself approaching, this is the work I do with leaders every week. Book a conversation with me whenever it feels right.
What is the "yes, but" holding you back?
This was my favourite part of the whole evening. We rarely say a full yes to life. We say yes, but. Yes, I want to change this, but I do not have time. Yes, I would love to build that, but not now. We hide the but and justify it, and it quietly runs the show.
"This but is very exciting. It is the part of ourselves that we still need to discover."
Their invitation was not to defeat the but. It was to get curious about it. The but is usually an older part of us, shaped by some fear or wound, that is not yet willing to come along. Ignore it and it stays in charge. Turn toward it with some warmth and it begins to soften. I see this constantly in the founders I work with. The strategy is rarely the problem. The but is.
How do you deal with the anxiety of changing your life?
A member of our community asked exactly this, and the answer was unlike any I had heard. Do not fix the anxiety. Use it.
"The anxiety and the fear and the resistance are there to find the right timing."
When you move toward what genuinely calls you, resistance rises. That is normal. It does not mean the choice is wrong. It means the change may be for the day after tomorrow rather than tomorrow. Their practice is simple. Once a day, sit with the anxiety on purpose. Where do I feel it in my body? What is it connected to? You breathe through it and you let it inform your pace.
And they were firm about one thing. Skip the pros and cons list. Writing endless columns only deepens the split, and whichever option you pick, the other one knocks on the door the next morning. Hold the tension instead, and let the decision ripen until there is only one thing you would actually do.
Is it selfish to put yourself first?
One guest asked whether choosing her own path over everyone else's needs made her selfish, and the room went quiet. The answer was gentle and very direct. Sacrificing yourself for others can be its own kind of ego. I exist through letting everyone else go first. It sounds loving. It is not, because you cannot give from a self you have abandoned.
"You will never be able to love people if you do not love yourself. The limitation you put on loving yourself, you will put on others too."
And there was one more layer that stayed with me as a thought for every parent and every leader. If you sacrifice your own path, the people watching you learn to sacrifice theirs. The most generous thing you can model is a person with the courage to be who they are. That is what sets other people free.
How to practice this in an ordinary week
Nothing here requires a retreat. Start smaller than feels impressive.
Take one pause a day that has no purpose. A silent coffee, a short walk, two minutes of breath before a meeting. Let it break the trance.
Ask the question once: is what I did yesterday still valid today? Answer honestly and change one small thing.
Catch one "yes, but" this week. Do not argue with it. Just write down what the but is protecting.
If a big change is calling you, sit with the anxiety for five minutes instead of solving it. Notice where it lives in your body. Let it help you find your timing.
Where this might not hold
Our guests would be the first to say there is no single right way, and their path of decades of practice is their own. Some seasons genuinely demand speed, and a young business or a new baby will not wait politely while you sit in silence. The invitation is not to abandon ambition. It is to stop mistaking disconnection for drive. And if what you feel goes beyond everyday stress into something heavier, please speak with a professional. A practice is a support, not a substitute for real help.
A few questions I hear often
What is slow living in simple terms?
Living at the pace that is actually yours. It means being present in what you are doing, noticing what your body and heart are telling you, and questioning habits that no longer fit. It is not about doing everything slowly, and it is not about doing nothing.
Can you live slowly and still be ambitious?
Yes, and our guests are proof. They run a school, teach across several countries and languages, and are busier than ever. The difference is where the action comes from. Working from listening rather than from chasing tends to produce more, not less, and it costs far less of you.
Why do I feel anxious when I try to slow down?
Because stillness lets you feel what the speed was covering. That is uncomfortable and completely normal. Treat the anxiety as information rather than as an alarm, give it a few quiet minutes a day, and let it settle at its own pace. If it feels overwhelming or persistent, that is a good moment to bring in professional support.
Is putting yourself first selfish?
Not in the way we usually fear. You cannot pour from a self you have abandoned, and constant self-sacrifice quietly teaches the people around you to abandon themselves too. Real care for others starts with an honest relationship with yourself, held together with healthy boundaries.
How do I start when my calendar is completely full?
Start with minutes, not hours. One silent coffee. One walk without your phone. One honest question about yesterday's habits. Small pauses repeated daily do more than a grand gesture once a year, and they fit inside any calendar, including yours.
The pace that is actually yours
When I sit with everything they shared, one thread runs through it all. The goal was never slowness. The goal is you, present and honest, moving at the pace that is truly yours. Some seasons that pace will be fast. The difference is that you will be there for it.
This is the heart of what we do at The Simplified Model, with founders, executives and investors who want their success to include themselves. If that speaks to you, book a conversation with me whenever you feel ready.
Related reading: our conversation with Ken on why following your passion is not enough, and how we work with leaders one to one.
This piece draws on our full community conversation, Slow MasterMind with Sat Sarbat & Satmukh. Watch it in full above.
