WHEN “MISSING OUT” COSTS US MORE THAN WE THINK
A shared reflection on rest, rhythm, and choosing our own pace
The Quiet Tug-of-War Many of Us Recognize
Of course we care deeply about our health. We think about sleep, stress, nourishment, movement, balance. We read, we listen, we gather ideas. We make quiet promises to ourselves about how we want to feel in our bodies and in our lives. And still, even with that care, we notice how easily we get pulled off course.
It’s rarely one big decision. More often, it’s a series of small ones that seem reasonable in the moment. One more meeting. One more scroll. One more conversation that feels important to stay part of. One more evening that ends later than we intended.
Somewhere underneath those choices is a familiar question many of us carry, even if we don’t always put words to it: What if I miss something? What if slowing down means falling behind, losing momentum, or stepping out of the flow of things?
This isn’t a personal failure. It’s a tension many of us, myself included, are navigating in a world that moves quickly and rewards constant engagement. I believe naming that tension without judgment, can be a starting place.
How We Drift, Little by Little, From What Supports Us
When we look closely, the ways we move away from our own wellness are often subtle. It doesn’t feel like neglect. I feels like accommodation.
We push through meals because the day is full.
We stay up late because it’s the only quiet time that feels like ours.
We say “yes” because it feels easier than explaining a “no.”
We fill empty moments with sound, screens, or conversation so nothing - no waking moment feels wasted. (ouch!)
None of this makes us careless. It reflects how responsive we are to work, to family, to community, to the expectations placed on us and the expectations we place on ourselves.
Over time, however, we may begin to notice the cost. Fatigue that lingers. Sleep that doesn’t restore. A sense of being slightly out of sync with our own bodies. A quiet knowing that something needs attention, even if we’re not sure what that something is.
For many of us, there’s also an unspoken worry humming in the background: If I slow down, what happens to my place in the world? That question doesn’t mean we’re afraid; it means we’re human, living inside systems that value speed, visibility, and productivity.
When Health Feels Ordinary and Busy Feels Safer
You may also notice how strange it can feel to choose consistency over stimulation. Health habits: sleeping regularly, eating well, moving gently, creating boundaries often don’t feel exciting. They’re quiet. Repetitive. Unremarkable.
Meanwhile, being busy can feel energizing, even reassuring. It keeps you feeling connected, needed, informed. It can feel like momentum.
It’s understandable that sometimes we choose what feels alive and immediate over what feels steady and slow. And yet, many of us sense that our bodies don’t actually crave more input. They crave rhythm.
What if “boring” isn’t the right word? What if what we’re really encountering is simplicity something that doesn’t ask us to perform or keep up?
Small, steady choices don’t usually come with recognition. But over time, they create something meaningful: a foundation that holds you when life gets complicated.
When you begin to question the idea that you’re missing out, you may discover that you’re also missing out on something else when you never pause or rest.
Choosing Your Own Pace, Together and Gently
At some point, you may notice that constant motion doesn’t always lead to greater satisfaction. You may still be doing all the things—and yet feel tired, distracted, or disconnected.
Stepping off the hamster wheel doesn’t require a dramatic change. It can begin with curiosity. With paying attention. With asking gentle questions rather than making rigid rules.
You might start by noticing where urgency shows up in your body. Or where you say “yes” when you mean “maybe”—or “no.” Or what it feels like to choose one quiet evening and let it be enough.
Being well and prioritzing your health doesn’t mean you have to do everything perfectly, just that you create a few steady anchors—small practices you can return to, even when life is full.
A consistent bedtime window.
A nourishing meal eaten with some presence.
A daily pause to breathe or step outside.
A regular moment to check in with ourselves.
These choices don’t mean you’re opting out of life. They mean you’re choosing to stay in relationship with yourself as you live it.
Closing Reflection
What if keeping up isn’t the same as moving forward?
What if rest isn’t something I earn, but something I allow myself to receive again and again?
Things to Try
Notice one moment this week where you feel rushed, and pause if you can
Choose one evening to disengage a little earlier than usual
Pay attention to how your body responds to a small act of care
Ask yourself: What feels supportive right now?
Let one thing remain unfinished, and notice what arises