Move at the Speed of What Matters

Breaking free from productivity culture and finding a rhythm that feels like your own.

Person at desk in contemplative workspace with geometric elements

The Productivity
Paradox

The faster we move, the less we notice. The more we optimize, the less we create.

The point isn't the pace; it's the intention behind it.

It started with a realization.

If there's one thing I've learned in this season of reinvention, it's that every setback (whether you want it or not) comes with a syllabus. It's a curriculum you don't ask for, but one that teaches you more than any title ever could, if you're willing to lean in and listen. I've leaned in; with curiosity, resilience, and experience that turned reflection into reinvention.

My time at Microsoft will always be formative in shaping me; strategically, creatively, and as a leader. But it was what came next, during a season of unexpected pause and reinvention, that really taught me about myself.

After years of working in digital marketing, on high-impact campaigns and telling stories at scale, I found myself in an unexpected career pivot. Not by choice; perhaps by design. This was time off and on at the same time. Time to get quiet and curious, clear and intentional. I broke the spell of productivity and reconnected with my own creative rhythm by starting to ask questions: About what's possible, what kind of projects feel most impactful to me, how to build without building up stress, how to make space for creating with intention and clarity.

Man standing at a doorway, representing the metaphor of 'Untethered'

The AI Speed Paradox

Right before my pivot, one mantra started cropping up across the organization: "Move at the speed of AI." Each time I heard that, something inside me cinched up. This wasn't good advice; it was snake oil. The truth is that we're not machines. We're human. And sometimes, the most subversive thing you can do is unplug, uncap your pen, and just let it flow.

I didn't realize how reliant I'd become on this productivity monkey until it was taken away. The first few weeks were whiplash-inducing. I didn't miss the meetings or the inbox chaos. I missed the validation. I had no sprint to run, no one to impress, and no reason to master executive updates or cut PowerPoint decks at 11:58 PM. Without that cadence of urgency, I felt adrift and untethered.

That was the withdrawal. But it also taught me something deeper: how to observe systems, question defaults, and respond with intention instead of reflex.

The Journey: Output vs. Meaningful Impact

The first few weeks of structurelessness were a withdrawal of their own kind. But when I stopped trying to fill every moment with output, something strange happened: I started getting curious again. Real curiosity. Not the optimized kind, but the kind that follows a thread just to see where it leads.

So, I started building. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I wanted to build this portfolio site, and the thought of coding in React seemed like a good excuse to learn. I used the site as a reason to explore TypeScript, which became a rabbit hole that led to other rabbit holes; like learning to use AI tools to help accelerate my work without accelerating my life.

Man sitting down building something, arranging geometric blocks with intention

In between debugging CSS and choosing font weights, I realized I wasn't just building a site. I was rebuilding myself. I was remembering why I loved the process to begin with. I wasn't starting from zero; I was drawing from a deep well of experience shaped by years of solving complex problems inside one of the world's most demanding professional ecosystems.

What Matters Now

This isn't a productivity hack. It's not a framework for output optimization. It's permission to go at the pace that matters most to you. Because it might not matter if you're going fast or slow, as long as you're showing up for yourself.

Maybe that's faster than you think. Maybe it's slower. Maybe it's the same. Maybe it varies depending on the season, the project, the day, the week, or the hour. The point isn't the pace; it's the intention behind it.

I'm still building, still learning, still figuring it out. But now I'm doing it on my terms, at my speed, guided by curiosity; not urgency. And I'm doing it with the confidence that comes from knowing I know how to build, adapt, and lead with meaning. Reinvention isn't just reflective; it's actionable. And I'm ready.

Move at the speed of what matters. Not what's fast. Not what's impressive. What's real.

The Speed Trap

Research shows that 73% of knowledge workers feel pressure to respond to messages within an hour. Constant urgency decreases both quality and innovation.

✓ What I Learned

  • Validation ≠ Purpose
    The meetings validated my presence, but building in silence revealed my purpose.
  • Curiosity > Optimization
    Real curiosity follows threads without needing ROI.
  • Intention > Speed
    The pace matters less than the why behind it.

The Build Stack

  • React for structure
    A reason to explore and learn.
  • TypeScript for depth
    Rabbit holes that lead somewhere.
  • AI for acceleration
    Speed work without speeding life.
  • Curiosity for direction
    Following what feels right.

Signs You're Moving Right

You're excited about the process, not just outcomes.

Rest feels like strategy, not sabotage.

Work flows from curiosity, not urgency.

When these align, you're moving at the speed of what matters.

This is me, building again. At my pace. On my terms. Alive in the process.

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