Unravelling... from the need for speed

Leaning into creativity, not just productivity

Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash

Create, create, create. But does it even feel creative? That’s the modern content machine.

The past two years I’ve taken my print journalism skills online, but the pace of digital content still gives me whiplash. The targets, the keywords, the churn – it feels miles away from writing for the joy of it. Because, of course, it’s not about joy. It’s about the consumer.

Lately, though, I feel like I’ve been pulled under by the content current, gasping for air. I’ve questioned my writing – are my ideas trending enough? (Probably not. Because whatever I’m thinking of was probably done yesterday.)

And it’s not just work. This hypercompetitive, keep-up-or-die mindset bleeds into everything. How fast are we burning through books? Are we posting enough? Binge-watching the right shows? Writing a Substack a week, a book a year? And, of course, living a life worthy of content in the first place.

It’s enough to make your head spin.

Photo by Sophi Raju on Unsplash

So, I’m stepping off the content hamster wheel for a moment. Standing still. Feet planted. Shoulders back. Heart soft. Or at least, as much as I can when writing is my job. But I’m trying not to get swept up in the tsunami of comparison. Trying to carve out pockets of peace away from productivity. Even when that insistent little voice in my head is asking why I’m resting instead of creating.

I’m choosing to read slowly – books, articles, newsletters. I recently read

Annie Ridout

’s post about quitting Instagram, and someone commented that they delete the app during the week and reinstall it on weekends. I started doing the same – today, in fact – and I’ve already forgotten how to fill the extra time. But I want space, not just more work disguised as leisure. Space to enjoy other people’s art without measuring how much I’m making, or whether it’s as good as everyone else’s.

Right now, I’m reading

Caro Giles

’ Twelve Moons. I’m listening to new music, falling into podcasts, following my curiosity. Yesterday, I read a Stylist piece about starting your week with a poem. No pressure to try a new workout, cook something elaborate, or buy the latest skincare miracle. Just beautiful words to ease into Monday. I love that.

The world feels like it’s spinning faster than ever. I have no idea how to spot a TikTok trend – though my sister assures me the trends will find me. I’ve seen hundreds of memes about how January dragged on forever, but I blinked, and it was gone.

This year marks six years since I got married. Five since my mum died. Three since my son was born. Two since I went freelance. Time is slipping through my fingers like sand. A friend joked today that in a decade, I’ll be 50, and suddenly, I’m anxious about everything I need to create before then. I want to live big – but does that mean I have to live fast?

We all talk about embracing a slow life, but can we afford to move at such a quiet pace?

Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

Maybe the trick isn’t to stop time from slipping through our fingers – it always will – but to notice the feeling of it. To be present in the moments between the creating, the sharing, the chasing. Maybe slowing down isn’t about rejecting speed entirely, but about choosing when to step off the ride.

This week is busy, but in the best way. I’m attending an online poetry workshop, having dinner with a friend, and spending the weekend away with family. And for most of it, I won’t be on Instagram.

I don’t have the answer yet. But for now, I’m reading more. Breathing deeper. Logging off, sometimes. Letting the days pass without measuring them in output. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

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This week’s poem I enjoyed

Happy Birthday Poem, by

Salena Godden

and how can it be

that we are just beginning

and not in the middle

but closer to the start

that we hold such hope and faith

when calamity the bass line

and catastrophe the chorus

that when we wake each morning

we reach not for gun and rum

but pen and heart and time

that the party just got started

like yesterday 

was a dress rehearsal

thank you

the first one was nice

but the next always stronger

and we're not even halfway

and healing is our power

forgiveness is an ocean

and shrinking was an error

and dreaming was a gift

and never giving up

how can it be

we care more now

and love you more than ever

when once death was a space

the end was a destination

and black was not a dress

and sex was not a passport

but learning always sexy

just look at this tattoo we never had

and look at the geography

oh all the places we haven't seen

and all the shoes we never wore

the language unspoken

the science and the nature

the doors that we will open

paintings on the eyelids

this love, this life, my love

how we cannot eat it all

but we stuff our face with laughing

and drink in all the summer

and still stay up too late

and how can it be

we're just getting going

learning to dance

and sing our own tune

that this is just beginning

and change is a constant

and how can it be

that there is more to come