Slower is Faster

More testing, less backtracking.

Slower is Faster
Photo by Kris-Mikael Krister / Unsplash

Hello Shiny Humans,

I’m excited to tell you that I’m making videos again!
And I really want to share them with you!
But I’m not going to!
Yet!
Because I’m not ready to!

And I've gotta admit, it feels weird to respect that.

There’s a saying that’s attributed to Navy Seals:

“Slow is smooth and smooth is fast."

And I've heard a simpler version used to describe therapy:

"Slower is faster."

This has not, traditionally, been my style. I was classically trained in the "Move Fast and Break Things" School of Internet Projects. The motto on my family crest is, "I can make it in an hour."

I prefer to power through, to crank it out, to ship the code, to launch early, to fail faster, and to live on a steady diet of prototypes and tech debt.

Because... come on, now. Faster is faster.

But integrating my autism diagnosis has really thrown some banana peels onto this Mario Kart track. It's no longer safe for me to run hard without rest.

I can no longer trust the hyperfocus of a new exciting idea, because if it’s afraid to let me take a break, it’s also probably afraid that I might change my mind. And what if I need to?

I ‘sleep’ on things now. I go for walks and roll the ideas around. I ask what my inner child, my inner artist, and my inner strategist think about it. I also ask what my future, wiser, 80-something-year-old self who is looking back on her life will think of it. There’s a whole damned council involved now.

The good news is: my compass has been pretty consistent. The map might be blurry, but the general direction I'm walking in hasn’t changed. And that’s a huge gift, because it means any step I take, no matter how tiny, is progress I get to keep.

The bad news is: I have to test each step carefully now. I spent so long misunderstanding my own needs that I don't feel ready to trust my guesses about what's right for me. I need to run experiments and study the results.

It's slow.

But it's a lot faster than running up the wrong hill and realizing—when I finally pause because I'm exhausted—that I need to turn back and start over.

So I'll share them with you when I'm ready. (I also plan to post them on TikTok, Instagram, and possibly YouTube.) Right now I'm adjusting my approach to editing and workflow, but the concepts are feeling solid and fun. I'll let you know when you can see them.

Thanks for being here with me, even when I'm in the slow lane.

Affectionate emojis,
Sarah