rushing is just insecurity trying not to get caught.

Me and rushing have a history. For the longest, my life has felt like a big blob of rushing and destination hopping. Survival mode will convince you that there is no time to move slowly or to move intentionally. The only goal is to go, go, go. Arrive, arrive, arrive. But where does being present and actually experiencing life fit in that equation? It doesn’t. 

I’m finally learning what it means to take my time. What it means to pace myself, not only as a means to enjoy life but as a preventative measure against burnout.

I’ve recently gotten back into pole dancing, and it has taught me a lot about not moving too fast. In the past (and even sometimes now — I’m working on it) I would try to rush through certain moves to hurry up and get the pain over with, but rushing ruins the experience. Pain is part of the experience. A slow, intentional pace is how we truly master a move or technique. It’s not about rushing to say it’s done, but about being able to say we were present in the experience. Feeling the pain, the excitement, the exhilaration, and the pride behind witnessing our own bodies blow our minds. When we rush we miss that. We cut the experience short. The passion and romanticization of it all fall flat. What I’m realizing is that it takes confidence and getting comfortable (in our skin, in our body, in our decisions, etc.) to go slow. Because rushing is just insecurity trying not to get caught.