Speaker 1: US Studios. Welcome to the Stillness Journal. I'm Maya, and
Speaker 1: today I want to talk about something quiet and persistent,
Speaker 1: the practice of trusting your own pace. Not the pace
Speaker 1: your family moved at, not the pace your work demands,
Speaker 1: not the pace that the people around you seem to
Speaker 1: cly through life. With your own pace, the one that
Speaker 1: only you can hear if you listen. If there is
Speaker 1: a part of you that has been feeling like you
Speaker 1: are running a little behind, this practice is for that part,
Speaker 1: the part that looks at other people and wonders how
Speaker 1: they got so far, so fast, The part that keeps
Speaker 1: a quiet tally of milestones and feels the gap between
Speaker 1: where you are and where you thought you would be
Speaker 1: by now, The part that has been telling you in
Speaker 1: small ways that you are somehow taking too long. We
Speaker 1: live in a world that is obsessed with pace, a
Speaker 1: world that rewards people for moving quickly, for shipping fast,
Speaker 1: for figuring things out early, a world that calls slow
Speaker 1: people behind, and behind people failing and failing people lost.
Speaker 1: And if you are a person who has internalized that
Speaker 1: rhythm even a little, you have probably be carrying a
Speaker 1: kind of urgency that does not really belong to you,
Speaker 1: a borrowed hurry, a deadline from someone else's life. But
Speaker 1: your pace is not a problem to be solved. It
Speaker 1: is a language. It is the way your particular body, mind,
Speaker 1: and heart have learned to move through the world. And
Speaker 1: it is not the same as the body next to
Speaker 1: you or the body next to that one. You are
Speaker 1: not late, you are not behind. You are moving at
Speaker 1: the speed that is honest for you in this season,
Speaker 1: in this life. Pace is a strange thing. It can
Speaker 1: feel from the inside like a flaw, like something you
Speaker 1: should have outchroned by now, like a small gap between
Speaker 1: you and the people who seem to know exactly where
Speaker 1: they are going. But pace is not goodness, It is
Speaker 1: not virtue. It is not a measure of how much
Speaker 1: you care about your life. Some people move fast because
Speaker 1: they have to. Some people move slow because they are
Speaker 1: paying Attentioneople move fast because they are running from something.
Speaker 1: Some people move slow because they are walking towards something
Speaker 1: that matters. And the truth is, the pace you move
Speaker 1: at is shaped by things you did not choose, the
Speaker 1: childhood you had, the losses you carried, the amount of
Speaker 1: rest you are allowed, the kind of safety you grew
Speaker 1: up inside The pace of a person's life is not
Speaker 1: a measure of their ambition. It is a measure of
Speaker 1: how much weight they have had to carry, and how
Speaker 1: much healing they have had to do, and how much
Speaker 1: room they have been given to take their time settle
Speaker 1: in if you can, let the body find a place
Speaker 1: where it does not have to perform, let the shoulders release,
Speaker 1: let the breath go slow. You do not have to
Speaker 1: figure out your pace right now. You only have to
Speaker 1: notice that the pace exists, and that it is yours,
Speaker 1: and that it is not a mistake. I think sometimes
Speaker 1: we feel ashamed of our pace because we compare it
Speaker 1: to someone else's. We see a friend buying a house
Speaker 1: and we are still renting. We see a sibling getting
Speaker 1: married and we are still figuring out what we want.
Speaker 1: We see a colleague being promoted and we are still
Speaker 1: learning the basics. And from the outside it looks like
Speaker 1: they are moving and we are standing still. But we
Speaker 1: are not seeing the years of work behind their moment.
Speaker 1: We are not seeing the help they got that we
Speaker 1: did not. We are not seeing the things they gave
Speaker 1: up to move that fast, And the comparison does not
Speaker 1: tell us anything true about our own life. It only
Speaker 1: tells us that we are watching someone else's story while
Speaker 1: we are still inside our own. We are comparing our
Speaker 1: rough draft to someone else's polished chapter. We are measuring
Speaker 1: our slowest middle against someone else's triumphant beginning. The comparison
Speaker 1: is not fair, It was never meant to be fair.
Speaker 1: And the only person it hurts issue I want to
Speaker 1: invite you, in this moment to notice the places where
Speaker 1: you have been rushing, not because the rush was required,
Speaker 1: but because you thought it was required, because somewhere, in
Speaker 1: some quiet place, you decided that you had to keep up,
Speaker 1: that you could not afford to take the long way,
Speaker 1: that asking for more time was the same as admitting
Speaker 1: you were not enough. Notice that the rush is not
Speaker 1: in itself a problem. Many people need to move fast
Speaker 1: for real reasons. Many seasons of life require urgency. But
Speaker 1: notice two that the rush you are carrying now may
Speaker 1: not be a real one. You may be a leftover,
Speaker 1: a habit from a time when you did not have
Speaker 1: the luxury of slowness, a pattern from a season when
Speaker 1: someone was watching and you felt you had to prove.
Speaker 1: And notice gently that the watching may have stopped, but
Speaker 1: the rush has not. And if you are in a
Speaker 1: season where the rush is real, where there is genuinely
Speaker 1: a lot to do and not enough time to do it.
Speaker 1: Even then, your pace is not a flaw. Your pace
Speaker 1: is information. It is telling you something about what you
Speaker 1: can hold and what you cannot and what you need
Speaker 1: to let go of. Listening to the pace is not
Speaker 1: the same as giving up. It is the same as
Speaker 1: being honest with yourself in a world that rewards pretending.
Speaker 1: There is a different kind of pace too, the pace
Speaker 1: of healing, the pace of grieving, the pace of becoming
Speaker 1: a person you have never been before. That pace is
Speaker 1: not linear, It is not efficient. It does not move
Speaker 1: at the speed of productivity. It moves at the speed
Speaker 1: of the body, and the body takes its time. The
Speaker 1: body does not know how to be hurried, even when
Speaker 1: the mind tries. The body takes a long way around
Speaker 1: because it has to, because the feelings have to be
Speaker 1: felt all the way through, not just past. So if
Speaker 1: you are in a season of healing or grieving or becoming,
Speaker 1: your pace is not slow. It is honest. It is
Speaker 1: the only pace that can carry you through that particular
Speaker 1: kind of work. And if you are in a season
Speaker 1: of building or working or choosing. Your pace is the
Speaker 1: pace that is yours, and it does not need to
Speaker 1: match anyone else's. There is no single correct speed for
Speaker 1: a life. There is only the speed that lets you
Speaker 1: stay connected to yourself while you are moving. I want
Speaker 1: to say something to the part of you that has
Speaker 1: been keeping a tally, the part that counts the months,
Speaker 1: the years, the milestones, the part that points at the
Speaker 1: gap and says, see you are behind. That part of
Speaker 1: you is not your enemy. That part is trying to
Speaker 1: protect you. It learned somewhere that if you did not
Speaker 1: move fast enough, you would be left, that if you
Speaker 1: did not achieve fast enough, you would be overlooked. That
Speaker 1: slowness was the same as being forgotten. And that part
Speaker 1: has been working very hard for a very long time
Speaker 1: to keep you moving, even when moving hurt, even when
Speaker 1: moving meant you could not feel what you were feeling,
Speaker 1: even when moving meant you lost track of the things
Speaker 1: that mattered. That part was doing its best. It was
Speaker 1: using the only strategy it had, and I want to
Speaker 1: thank it, and I want to tell it gently that
Speaker 1: it does not have to drive so hard anymore, that
Speaker 1: you are safe to slow down, that being slow will
Speaker 1: not get you left that being slow is in fact
Speaker 1: the way you will finally catch up with yourself. You
Speaker 1: do not have to earn your way into a slower pace.
Speaker 1: You do not have to first proof you have done enough.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to slow down right now, exactly as
Speaker 1: you are in the middle of whatever you are in
Speaker 1: the middle of. The slowing does not require a reason.
Speaker 1: It does not require a clean schedule, It does not
Speaker 1: require anyone's permission. It only requires a willingness to let
Speaker 1: the body set its own tempo and to trust that
Speaker 1: the tempo is enough. And the people who are meant
Speaker 1: to walk with you will walk at your pace. They
Speaker 1: will not require you to speed up. They will not
Speaker 1: be annoyed by the slow They will simply be next
Speaker 1: to you in the time it takes, in the way
Speaker 1: that is honest for them too. And the work that
Speaker 1: is meant for you will find you at your pace,
Speaker 1: not at a faster one. The opportunities that are yours
Speaker 1: will not vanish because you took a long way home.
Speaker 1: I want to leave you with a small practice for
Speaker 1: the week ahead. When you notice yourself rushing, pause just
Speaker 1: for a breath and ask who is this rush for?
Speaker 1: Is it for something? Real, something that genuinely needs to
Speaker 1: happen quickly. Or is it for a feeling, an old feeling,
Speaker 1: the feeling that you have to keep up, or that
Speaker 1: you will be left, or that you are not enough
Speaker 1: if you are not moving. If the rush is real,
Speaker 1: take one slow breath and let it be what it is.
Speaker 1: Do not add anything to it, just breathe through it.
Speaker 1: If the rush is the old kind, the borrowed kind,
Speaker 1: you are allowed to let it go. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to set down that particular hurry. You are allowed to
Speaker 1: walk away from it and let the rest of your
Speaker 1: day unfold at the pace that is actually yours. You
Speaker 1: do not have to do this practice perfectly. You can
Speaker 1: do it in the middle of a meeting. You can
Speaker 1: do it in the shower. You can do it in
Speaker 1: the three seconds before you answer a question. The point
Speaker 1: is not the form. The point is the noticing. The
Speaker 1: point is the small, repeated choice to be in your
Speaker 1: own life, at your own pace instead of someone else's.
Speaker 1: And as you go through the rest of your day,
Speaker 1: I want you to carry this with you. Your pace is
Speaker 1: not a flaw. It is not a sign that you
Speaker 1: are failing. It is not a measurement of your worth.
Speaker 1: It is the rhythm of a particular life, yours lived
Speaker 1: honestly in the time you have been given. The world
Speaker 1: will keep moving, but you do not have to keep
Speaker 1: up with the world. You only have to keep up
Speaker 1: with yourself. And yourself is not in a hurry. Yourself
Speaker 1: is right here and that is enough. Thank you for
Speaker 1: being here today, Thank you for listening to your own pace,
Speaker 1: even for a few minutes. I will be here next
Speaker 1: week with another Stillness Journal. Until then, be gentle with yourself,
Speaker 1: trust the pace you are walking, and let the rest wait.
Speaker 1: This has been the Stillness Journal, extended with Maya Chen,
Speaker 1: a gentle voice for the part of you that is
Speaker 1: learning to slow down.