One of the most special parts of my trip to Egypt was cruising down the Nile, watching life unfold on its banks the way it has for thousands of years.

I couldn’t help but think of how differently most of us live.

The relentless pace. One more email or “to-do” that simply must get done. Trying to beat time and squeeze 30 hours out of 24.

Spoiler: we can’t.

It occurred to me that beneath what’s become an almost pathological busyness lies a deeper, unfaced fear—of being left behind, of missing out on the next opportunity, recognition, or “success,” at least by the world’s yardstick.

And so we push harder. We say “yes” without weighing the trade-offs, skim across the surface of life, often wearing our busyness like a badge—evidence that we’re “in the game.”

“I did 200,000 air miles last year. How many did you do?” someone asked me not long ago, as though air miles could ever measure our worthiness.

But the wisdom to live well, to love well, and to lead well in a world with its foot permanently on the accelerator won’t emerge from more speed. Rather the exact opposite. 

It requires space.

Reflection.

In a world addicted to skimming the surface at speed, making space to live more deeply has become a quiet act of rebellion.

Prioritizing—and then protecting—time to connect to the deeper wisdom that lives within us. To think more deeply about our toughest challenges so we can respond with clarity rather than react from overwhelm; with courage rather than anxiety.

So this year, walking my talk and “leading bravely” is not about doing more, and faster, but doing less, but better. It’s putting into practice the title of one of my favorite books by John Mark Comer and pursuing the “relentless elimination of hurry.”

Will I fall short? Probably by dinner.

But as John Mark wrote in his book, “hurry and love are incompatible.”  And as I wrote in The Courage Gap:

Love is courage in its highest form.  And we get get cut off from love, the source of true wisdom,  when we fail to slow down sufficiently to access it.

Which is why this year I’ve committed to being more intentional in my yeses —to carve focused space for deeper thinking, a more grounded presence, so that I can make my most  meaningful contribution in our increasingly fraught, fractured, frenzied, and fearful world. And hopefully, bring a little more love, more light and more wisdom into the  dark places around us.

But enough of me (though thank you for reading this far!).

What about you?

• What do you need to say no to so you can create space to think a little deeper, lead a little braver, and move through your days with more presence and less haste?

• And just as importantly, who will miss out over the longer arc of time if you don’t? Beyond yourself, of course.

Because when we are racing through life at speed, it’s not just others who miss out on our fullest presence and impact —it is us.  Indeed,  in the hurried hurly-burly of life, we run the risk missing out on life itself.

If nothing else, I hope you’ll take a moment to take the deepest breath you’ve had all day—breathe in courage, breathe out fear, and get present to the ground beneath your feet and the beauty of your life. 

I also hope you’ll enjoy these few glimpses from my cruise down the Nile. One day, I want to go back and cruise its entire length.