The Difference Between Urgency and Agency (and Why I'm Not Always Zen)

I once worked with a professional hockey player who’d been in the NHL for 19 years.

He wasn’t just there warming the bench—he was the captain, an Olympian, and he lifted the Stanley Cup that year.

I asked him what he thought was the key to such a long, successful career.

He said:“The self-care in between. The regenerative sessions. The young guys can run through brick walls, but they burn out in a few years.”

By every measure of success—performance, leadership, longevity—he proved that knowing how to pendulate between high intensity and deep restoration is what makes sustainable excellence possible.

Hustle culture taught us that speed and being constantly on make us winners. That urgency keeps us safe, important, and ahead of the pack.

But it’s not sustainable.Not in hockey—and not in life.

That’s why, when I guide nervous system sessions or group calls, you’ll notice I speak slowly. Very slowly.I’m not doing it just to be a source of co-regulation (soothing).I’m moving at the pace of your body, at the pace of restoration.

Because here’s the thing:Your mind moves like lightning.It loops into the past, leaps into the future, strategizes, and narrates.

But your body moves differently.It needs time to feel.To integrate.To release.

Your mind might say, “I’m safe in this new relationship or job.”But your body may need hundreds of reps of proof before it believes you.

Starting with small, safe-enough steps is a skill, a way out of urgency, into your own pacing.

When you slow down enough to catch up with yourself, something unsettling happens:

All the sensations and emotions you’ve been outrunning begin to surface.

It can feel like crawling out of your skin.Like everything you’ve built—your business, your home, your identity—will crumble if you don’t keep sprinting.

For many, slowing down feels like dying.
Because in a way, it is.
It’s the death of the version of you that believed your success, worth and survival were dependent on unrelenting tenacity. And that part of you was probably highly rewarded.

But here’s what you gain when you step off the treadmill:

✨ The energy that returns when you digest and release the stacked emotions draining your system.
✨ The ability to sense what you actually need, not just what your old patterns tell you to do.
✨ Clearer decisions—so when it’s time to move fast, you do it with purpose, not panic.
✨ A felt sense of aliveness, instead of performing life from the neck up.
✨ Sustainable success—because resonance and smart, aligned action build real impact and a career that is regenerative.
✨ The capacity to trust yourself again.

This is why I believe in resonant pacing.
It’s not just about moving slowly. It’s about learning to pendulate.  To return to slower, body-centered wisdom as the foundation for your dreams. So that when it’s time to go fast, you can go fast with clarity, choice, and a full tank.