The Art of Unhurrying (Part 2)

As an entrepreneur, everything I do has a purpose. Every move, every decision, has an end in mind. There’s always a goal, a problem to solve, or a process to optimize. I'm constantly thinking ahead, focusing on how to achieve that next big thing. It’s what drives me—it’s how I’ve built a career. But, I’ve realized lately, it’s also how I’ve created a life where I’m always hurrying.

Hurrying to the next meeting. Hurrying to the next project. Hurrying to the next city. Hurrying even to the next conference. Everything is a mad rush. I can’t seem to sit still for long without thinking about what comes next on the schedule. There’s always one more meeting to take, one more networking event to attend, one more conference to speak at.

I mean, let’s be real—this rush is part of who I am, part of how I thrive in the fast-paced world of business. But recently, I found myself doing something so strange it made me pause. I had to set aside time. To. Do. Nothing.

(Breathe)

At first, the absurdity of it hit me. Why in the world do I have to schedule nothing? Is this really where I’m at? Has life become such a constant sprint that I have to pencil in time for, well, nothing? For a moment, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. Maybe both.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that yes, doing nothing is a thing. And maybe it's exactly what I need. Maybe it's exactly what we all need.

The Rush Toward Balance

We’re taught that balance is key. We meditate, we take breaks, we go on vacations—all in an effort to decompress and create that mythical work-life balance. But often, even those "breaks" become things we do, instead of simply ways we be. We pack our downtime with activities, fill our vacations with busy schedules, and, if you’re anything like me, even turn relaxation into something that must be productive.

But here’s the question I’m asking myself: What if unhurrying is not just the absence of doing, but an entirely different way of being? What if it’s not about adding one more thing to our schedules to force balance but instead about retraining ourselves to stop rushing through everything, even the quiet moments?

Unlearning the Urge to Hurry

I’ve spent so much of my life working toward something—constantly thinking about the future, the next move, the next goal—that I’ve forgotten how to just exist in the present. But lately, I’ve started to realize that unhurrying is not about being unproductive. It’s about reconnecting with a slower rhythm, one where there’s room to breathe, room to reflect, room to feel without rushing to the next thing.

It’s about unlearning the urge to always be moving forward and giving ourselves permission to just be in one place. For once.

Scheduled Nothing

So, yes, I had to schedule doing nothing. And at first, it felt awkward. It felt almost like a joke. But then something unexpected happened—I started to enjoy it. Without an agenda, without a checklist, without a goal to reach, I felt something I hadn’t in a while. Calm. Stillness. Clarity.

Doing nothing allowed me to listen to my own thoughts, to let them wander and float without the pressure to turn them into action. I sat in a café, slowly sipping coffee without thinking about the next meeting. I wandered through a park, not to exercise or hit a step count, but just to wander. For a few moments, I let go of the need to be productive. And in that letting go, I found something I didn’t realize I’d been missing.

Why Doing Nothing is Actually Everything

The truth is, doing nothing is not really about nothing. It’s about creating space for something else—something that’s often more meaningful than the hustle of our day-to-day lives. It’s about presence. It’s about finding a sense of peace in the present moment, rather than chasing after the future.

I’m learning that the art of unhurrying is not about being lazy or unmotivated. It’s about creating room to breathe, room to live. It’s about rediscovering the joy in the simple act of being.

So, yeah, I’m still hustling. I’m still running a business, and I’m still deeply passionate about what I do. But I’m also learning that sometimes, the most important thing I can do for myself is to pause. To slow down. To do absolutely nothing.

And to enjoy it.

Until next time, wherever the slow lane takes me,

Allie Young