The Magic is in Pausing: Why Slowing Down is the Fastest Way to Beat Overwhelm

For years, many of us have been moving at a pace that quietly erodes our clarity and energy. Work, family, global upheavals, personal transitions; they all gather speed, piling up until we find ourselves trying to beat overwhelm by doing more. We rearrange tasks. We push harder. We try to outrun the very exhaustion we are feeling.

I have been in that cycle for a long time. Since 2019 my life has been a whirlwind: a baby, a pandemic, a growing business, a relocation to another country, and the emotional load underneath every one of those chapters. Like many high-achieving people, my instinctive response to stress has been movement. Add something. Reshuffle. Optimise my way out of discomfort.

It took me a while to see the absurdity of it. When the pace becomes too much, we often accelerate, as if speed could save us from strain. What is far harder, and far more transformative, is stopping. Not collapsing in defeat, but pausing with intention.

That pause is where the magic begins.

What changes when you stop pushing?

Even a brief step back interrupts the unconscious momentum that keeps us trapped in cycles of overwork. In the stillness, something essential surfaces. Our mind catches up with our body. Our nervous system recalibrates. We notice how much we have been carrying.

This is not weakness or disengagement. It is self-leadership.

Movement specialist Ruella Frank describes six fundamental movements. The one that has stayed with me most is yielding. It sounds simple: the ability to let yourself feel supported.

Yielding is that moment when you stop bracing against life and let the ground or the chair or the people around you hold you. It is a conscious choice to trust the present moment rather than push through it.

When I looked honestly at my life, I realised how rarely I yield. Even rest can become performative. Something to earn or justify. Stopping without guilt is a different skill entirely.

The permission we wait too long for...

Earlier this year I entered a strange emotional limbo. Everything around me was shifting and part of me knew I needed a break. Not a holiday. Not a long weekend. A genuine pause that would let my inner gears reset.

But I didn't take it.

Instead, I behaved like a child in a classroom, silently desperate for permission. I asked friends, peers, other coaches, even my therapist. Every one of them said the same thing. Take a break. It is allowed.

The only person who needed to say yes was me, and I refused.

The guilt ran deep. Stepping back felt like failure. Rest felt indulgent. I kept doing the essential parts of my work, but everything else slid to the bottom of the list. Creativity. Marketing. Growth. And still the guilt hummed in the background.

If you have been there, you know exactly how heavy it feels.

Doing the work I teach to beat overwhelm

Eventually I turned inward and did the same work I guide my clients through. I examined the foundations of my wellbeing: rest, movement, meaningful connection, mental clarity. I looked honestly at the gaps and the habits that were no longer serving me.

Then I asked the question I often ask others but rarely paused to ask myself.

What are the true priorities of my life right now?

For the first time in months, I created a plan that was not built on urgency or achievement. A plan without deadlines or pressure. A plan that allowed space for breathing.

The realisation that followed was liberating. I do not need to accomplish everything by the end of the year. Or even the next. Life is not a race, and meaningful work does not require constant acceleration.

What the pause made possible

Once I gave myself permission, I paused the parts of my business that needed space. Social media. The podcast. Larger campaigns. What emerged was not emptiness but clarity.

With the noise turned down, I could think again. Feel again. Reconnect to the parts of my work that genuinely energise me. That sense of alignment only arrives when you slow the pace long enough to hear yourself.

This pause is intentional and ongoing. For the rest of the year, I am focusing on a few select events, rebuilding communities for 2026, and choosing work that feels meaningful rather than obligatory.

Work feels more alive when it is not competing with constant urgency.

A different way to think about drive

Our culture teaches us to idolise momentum. Keep going. Keep producing. Keep achieving. The wheels of work should never stop. If you stop, something might collapse.

But what if that idea has never been true?

What if sustainable success is built on rhythm, not relentless motion? What if the real power lies in choosing when to accelerate and when to rest? What if the pause is not a disruption to growth, but the very thing that fuels it?

Productivity without presence is motion. Presence requires space.

An invitation to pause

So here is a question for you today. Where are you resisting the pause you most need? And where are you waiting for permission that can only come from you?

A pause does not have to be dramatic. It can be a slow morning. A walk without your phone. A day offline. Or a single breath before you answer the next request.

The magic is found in that moment when you stop long enough to hear your own mind again. It is where clarity returns, creativity resurfaces, and you reconnect with the person you are beneath all the doing.

Pause long enough to feel the ground beneath you. Your life and your work will thank you for it.

If this blog resonated with you, send me a message as I’d love to hear your story.

And if you’re looking for ways to manage stress in a high-pressure work environment, check out the different ways I support individuals and teams or book a call with me.