Admiring the Tortoise’s
Embodied Confidence
The Tortoise Always Beats the Hare. Full Stop.
I believe that there’s a quiet confidence in a sort of embodied wisdom that the tortoise1 must have in her ability to live out the truth that she has no need to rush.
This feeling is what I’ve been learning to lean into lately. I’ve been practicing living in the wisdom of a deeply gutted trust, rather than to push myself too far too soon in the face of the tension and anxiety that I feel in my body over the fear that I’ll lose out if I don’t.
My premise is that choosing to act with restraint in conscious pursuit of the slow game is the winning strategy.
The Danger of the “Bad Push”
And yet, there have been moments recently when I’ve still found myself negotiating my energy with forces that have no regard for it.
Life, in its irony, loves to test this resolve in simple ways. For example, I vow to leisurely stroll instead of walking briskly to my next destination, only to find myself sprinting for a bus that arrived ahead of schedule. Even sitting at an airport gate, with a fully loaded Kindle2 reader, watching delays cascade into cancellations, and with the sands of the hour glass, my time, and sense of autonomy drifting away with it in a mini test of my resolve to allow myself to practice being present.
Why can’t I convince my brain to just relax and enjoy being present in the moment with wisdom in the historical perspective that things work out in the long-run?
Letting Go of the Illusion that I’m Falling Behind
I’m finding that it is illusion to think that I have to “make up time” or “catch up” to some imagined and indeterminate place or pace in the future. This perspective is kind of the antidote.
Letting go of the belief that I’ll likely be left behind and cut out of the running if I don’t play along or keep up is the secret sauce of it all. Relinquishing the hubris of the proverbial hare’s need to get ahead in order to look like I have it together because all my i’s are dotted and t’s are perfectly aligned in prompt delivery is the type of strong medicine that I’m trying to ingest.
It’s a slow shift (go figure!). But with the consistent practice of reminding myself in my daily journals and in the spaces of consciousness in otherwise overwhelming and frustrating moments, I try to remember that that choosing what will likely help to keep my nervous system regulated over the long-term, namely not succumbing to the fear of pushing toward where I’m not ready to be, is good.
In choosing me, my time, and my pace, I’ve found joy in missing out on whatever it was I was chasing by going too fast. It’s like gently coaxing the lizard3 part of my brain by telling it:
“There, there. I see you. I hear you. But you’re still wrong if you think rushing through this discomfort will make it go away or make us feel any better, sooner.”
FOMO4 Is a Lie — And It’s Difficult to Think That I Might Have Hurt Myself in Pursuit of It.
FOMO, to me, feels glitchy. It’s a frantic energy and an awkward, desperate grasp for a feeling of inclusiveness that never quite hits the mark accurately. It’s like a lying voice from an illusive and intangible spectator (The Wizard of Oz comes to mind5) that says that I have to do more and be more to fit in because everyone else who matters is already ahead of me and I’ll never catch up.
Sometimes, I even find myself rationalizing it’s legitimacy.
I’m a woman. I’m a minority. My socio-economic prospects aren’t stellar compared to my peers.
These thoughts are fear masquerading as logic.
Unpacking the Roots of FOMO
to Disown A Fear That Isn’t Mine
When I interrogate the fear of missing out, like when I actually sit with it and see it for what it is, it’s easy to see that the fear of missing out is manufactured by external pressures: negative projections from social media, grind culture, and scarcity mindset. Most people wouldn’t push themselves to burnout6 if they weren’t afraid of not being enough. When I’ve experienced burnout because I’ve been afraid of missing out, it has mostly been as a result of taking on the perspective of people who haven’t had my best interests at heart.
Stillness Isn’t Stagnation — It’s Strength
So now, when FOMO starts to creep in and I’m tempted to compromise my resolve to fit in, I challenge myself to pause, take a breath, and step back just long enough to remember that I am actively in the process of cultivating the perspective I want to take with me in the long run.
This stillness allows me to be without needing to perform.
It’s like practicing the controlled strength of an adagio in center7 that requires balance, poise, and mindful breath.
Being still helps me to appreciate the warmth of a type of slow burn in a way that is nourishing and sustaining rather than the exhaustive and unreliable flicker of a short fuse.
Boundaries Are Love8
Practicing stillness takes more work than yielding to FOMO ever will.
Choosing stillness and appreciating a slower process often means choosing boundaries, discipline, and grace. I’ve decided that I’m okay with “missing out” if it means finding contentment in the knowledge that choosing something different will be better in the long run. I’m banking on dividends of clarity, perspective, and alignment.
I’m trusting that setting boundaries with my time, energy, and ambitions is selfish and a good thing to do for myself.
Time is sacred, even if it isn’t scarce and honoring what’s sacred to me helps me take care of myself.
Over time, resisting the gravitational pull toward perfectionism enables me to nurture self-compassion.
The Long Game
Is the Only Game
There’s an economic maxim that says, “In the long run, we’re all dead.9” And sure, that may be true. But in the meantime something is being built. Development happens. And I believe that what’s allowed to grow and ripen in due season, grows well.
As I see it, the hare might look flashier in the short term, but in the long run? She’s burnt out (and dead) with little to show for it.
At least the tortoise conserved her energy, stewarded her resources, and likely even built a lasting legacy along the way.
References:
- The Fable of the Tortoise and the Hare ↩︎
- Pro Tip: You can download Kindle books from your local library with the Libby App. ↩︎
- One of my favorite blog posts from Seth Godin about the Amygdaloid Body and fear response. ↩︎
- Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) ↩︎
- Kinda like this: “The Great and Powerful” Scene from the Wizard of Oz. ↩︎
- The World Health Organization’s Description of Burnout ↩︎
- One of the most famous variations of the sort by Gillian Murphy in Swan Lake. ↩︎
- Boundaries are Self-Care ↩︎
- I was taught Austrian Economics, but I still understand Keynesian Economic theory. ↩︎
(P.S. I receive no affiliate commission from these links, they are here purely for your enjoyment and reference).
Bonus Track
Are you Team Tortoise or Team Hare?
- Can you remember a time when choosing slowness actually brought you more clarity or peace?
- Who or what influences your internal clock and do those sources align with the kind of life you want to build?
- What does “winning” even mean to you right now? Has that definition changed over time?
💬 I’d love to hear your responses.
Reply below, send me a message or tag me @rosnolia.
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