Let me tell you about a conversation I had with my dad some time earlier this year. We were talking about this thing we both do—moving without forethought. You know the drill: always on the go, never slowing down to think, always one step ahead, but not really knowing where that step is taking us. It’s an uncomfortable topic, one I’d written down to revisit, but kept pushing aside. Because let’s be honest, who wants to sit with that discomfort?
Then, I started reading Jerry Colonna’s book, Reboot. I’ve been diving into it while literally running. Yep, running. The irony isn’t lost on me. In the third chapter, Jerry talks about his struggles and how he turned down the noise in his life by always moving forward, finding self-worth in achieving, moving, and being busy. As I was running, it felt like the book was calling me out directly. It hit me so hard that I stopped listening to the book. Instead, Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” started playing in my head.
I had to stop and ask myself, “What am I running from? And where to?”
Here’s the thing. We’re all so damn busy. We’re constantly moving, achieving, doing. It’s like we’re afraid that if we stop, we’ll fall apart. We tie our self-worth to our productivity, our busyness, our achievements. But what happens when we slow down? What happens when we stop?
For me, slowing down means facing the things I’ve been running from. It means sitting with the discomfort, the uncertainty, the fear. It means asking myself the hard questions and being okay with not having all the answers. And let me tell you, it’s hard. It’s uncomfortable. It’s messy.
But it’s also necessary.
Jerry’s question, “What am I running from and where to?” is a powerful one. It forces us to look at our lives and our choices. It forces us to confront the reasons behind our constant motion. Are we running from fear? From failure? From ourselves? And where are we running to? What are we hoping to find at the end of this race?
For me, the answer lies in slowing down and being present. It lies in finding worth in who I am, not in what I do. It lies in accepting that I am enough, just as I am. It’s about finding balance and learning to be okay with stillness.
So, if you’re like me and my dad, always moving without forethought, I challenge you to stop. To slow down. To sit with the discomfort. To ask yourself Jerry’s question. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.
We don’t have to run on empty. We can find peace in stillness. We can find worth in being, not just in doing.