Annual physical. Doctor frowning.
"Your resting heart rate is racing. That's... not resting."
"I guess I’m just naturally energetic," I said.
"No," he replied. "You're naturally terrified."
His words stunned. I wanted to argue. My busy schedule. My ambitious projects. My relentless drive. But my body had already spoken.
"What are you running from?" he asked.
Oof.
"I'm not running from anything… I'm running a lot of business-critical initiative—"
"Your heart can't tell the difference," he said, mentioning medication.
Medication?!
That night, unable to sleep, I finally listened:
Chest tight. Shoulders locked. Breath shallow.
My body was in permanent sprint. Even lying down, I was racing.
Then popped the question that grabbed me:
What if I'm not driven? What if I'm just scared?
Scared of falling behind, missing out, being still enough to be the person I'd been outrunning for decades.
I wasn't living in time—I was hiding in velocity.
From Urgency Addict → To Rhythm Keeper
Here's what I see is actually true of modern leadership:
We've confused responsiveness with responsibility.
We've mistaken speed for significance.
We've traded wisdom for velocity.
We think we're "staying on top of things," but we're really staying beneath them.
The Urgency Addict lives in perpetual emergency.
The Rhythm Keeper moves with natural intelligence.
One reacts. One responds.
Where This Pattern Began
Remember being five?
"Hurry up, we're late!"
"Naptime, 2:00!"
"Stop dragging your feet!"
Our days were optimized before we could even spell the word.
Natural rhythm? Called "feet dragging."
Inner timing? Called "defiance."
Present-moment awareness? Labeled "inattention."
We learned early: Your internal rhythm is wrong. External urgency is right.
Then school:
Bells every 50 minutes, fragmenting thought
Times tables teaching that time equals production
Recess shrinking as testing expanded
By adulthood, we'd internalized the commandment: Thou shalt always be urgently doing.
No wonder we check our phones 237 times daily. We're still five, afraid of being late to something we never chose.
The Hidden Cost of Chronic Urgency
You're trapped when:
Your body is present, your mind already elsewhere
Sunday feels like pre-Monday
Pausing feels like guilt
Your shoulders are near your ears
Your breathing is shallow and rushed
Paradoxically: The faster we move, the less ground we actually cover.
This Week's Practice: The Rhythm Reset
Day 1-2: Embodied Urgency Audit
Feel where urgency lives physically:
Set three random phone alarms daily.
Freeze, scan body, note tension, breath, posture.
Name the urgency—real or manufactured?
Day 3-4: Notification Detox
Turn off ALL notifications:
Morning: Check heartbeat before your phone.
Daytime: Notice phantom vibrations, breathe into them.
Evening: Shake body, notice release.
Day 5-7: Natural Rhythm Practice
Time embodiment over time management:
Morning: Feet grounded, deep breaths, let your body find its natural pace.
Transition: Pause between tasks, slow breath, ask if forcing.
Evening: Synchronize breath and pace before sleep.
The Actual Shift
When you become a Rhythm Keeper:
Your body relaxes.
Your presence magnifies.
Your intuition sharpens.
Your decisions improve.
Our bodies have been keeping perfect time—we've just stopped listening.
Real Talk: My Body's Revelation
Week one without notifications (including social media), I found:
Shallow breath during emails.
Shoulder tension before logging in.
Leaning forward, literally chasing time.
The moment it clicked? Speed-walking to the bathroom.
And then later at lunch, I realized I was eating to get it over with.
Urgency isn't a mindset. It's a full-body pattern.
Over time, it became clear to me that our body knows the difference between real urgency and manufactured panic.
Real urgency feels like focused energy moving through you.
Fake urgency feels like scattered anxiety about you.
Real urgency has a natural endpoint.
Fake urgency is an infinite loop.
Real urgency mobilizes specific action.
Fake urgency creates general agitation.
This week, we're learning to feel the difference.
Your Move
Feel urgency in your body.
Question its origin.
Experiment with rhythm.
This isn't about moving slowly. It's about moving in sync—with your body, with reality, with what matters.
P.S.
Yesterday, mid-email, I caught myself tensing. Instead of powering through, I stood up and shook it out.
The urgent email then wrote itself—in half the time.
If you're thinking, "Checking my body takes time!"—that's urgency talking.
The three seconds you spend feeling your shoulders might save three hours of tension-driven mistakes.
Efficiency is costing you effectiveness.
Time to feel the difference.
Stop racing your body. Start surfing its wisdom.
Rhythm beats racing, every single time.
—Adam
DM me "Day 1: Felt it" when you notice urgency in your body. I want to know where you carry time.
This post is tracking for me personally today! I've been contemplating fear; anxiety; worry about the future; events that haven't happened yet (and may never happen); internally running ahead of myself; externally frozen; no action—producing the cycle all over again. Missing out on trusting natural rhythms. Thank you, Adam.