The art of being still (not just doing)

This one is for all my perfectionists and high achievers out there who don’t seem to have an “off button.”

Am I addicted to doing more?

I grew up believing that achievements were the only reliable source of love and approval. If I paused for even a minute, it felt like I might fall behind or become invisible.

On the outside, that looked like success: I was productive, driven, always climbing. But inside, I was exhausted, anxious, and disconnected from myself. When you’re always pushing, you stop living one day at a time. You miss small joys. You lose touch with your emotions and your body. Life turns into a survival race instead of a journey.

This post isn’t about becoming a monk in the mountains. It’s about how I'm learning to keep moving toward a goal without burning out.

The cost of always doing

When you treat your body as just a machine to push, rest disappears. Emotions become invisible unless something extreme happens. Simple moments don’t feel important. That’s not how I intend to spend my short time on this rock.

Here are four limiting beliefs I uncovered in myself:

1. I’m only valuable when I achieve.

   1. If my worth depends on success, it’s never secure.
      In my mind, I had to re-earn it, over and over.

2. If I’m not climbing, I’m failing. 

   1. Minutes after finishing one mountain, I was already looking for the next.

3. I must prove myself to be loved. 

   1. I feared that if I stopped performing, people would stop caring.
      A dangerous thing to believe.

4. Being Still Means I’m Not Good Enough. 

   1. Rest looked like laziness. Peace of mind felt like weakness.

The Counterweight (Not “Balance”)

Naval once wrote: “Live a disciplined life, spontaneously.” (post worth reading)

It sounds like a contradiction.
Until you realize: discipline creates the conditions for spontaneity.

For me, it’s not about perfect “balance.” It’s about counterweight, the oscillation between extremes. Just like in nature, a constant oscillation of energy. The people who win the game of life (from my point of view) aren’t those who never stop striving. But those who know when to stop, and how to step back. They are in control, playing under their rules.

The art of being (Not just doing)

Being still isn’t laziness. It’s noticing your thoughts without chasing them. It’s breathing without rushing. It’s accepting what’s here, now, instead of always planning for what’s next.

At first, stillness feels uncomfortable. I felt unproductive, irrelevant.
Here, I found that I was missing compassion for myself. Compassion doesn't have to be a reward you earn after working hard. It’s something to give yourself freely, especially when tired, confused, or imperfect.

Doing is moving. Being is alignment.
You need both (if you plan to stay in the game as long as possible).

Ask better questions, get better answers

When I stop, I am learning to ask myself:

• Am I running in the right direction?

• Is this goal really mine or someone else’s?

• Is it aligned with my definition of success?

• Am I still willing to pay the price for this path?

These checkpoints are everything to protect my joy and fulfillment.

Other things I’m trying

• Deep focus, then counterweight stillness. 2-4h undisturbed work followed by counterweight. Like training, rest must be part of the big plan. Constraints in systems spark resourcefulness.

• Do things without a goal. Draw, paint, play, without an end goal (for the sake of doing it). Habits that automate the non-essential actions, so spontaneity and curiosity run free.

• Don’t take everything so seriously. Life’s lighter when I let it be. Our brains aren't wired for this new world (give it some slack).

From “What’s next?” to “What’s now?”

Being honest. For years, I hated celebrating my birthday. I felt I hadn’t “done enough” to deserve a celebration. I see how terribly wrong I was. Life is happening now, not after the next win or loss.

Recognize the season you’re in. There are seasons when the oscillation stretches. Periods of intense work need some small rest too, just enough to disconnect from the main task; without it, I couldn’t keep playing the long game. Add space for the counterweight before burnout hits. Shift gears during the day.

Doing is moving. Being is alignment.

Life isn’t about balance. It’s about discovering your own rhythm of oscillation between striving and stillness.

Ask better questions, get better answers.
Next time you feel the urge to sprint, stop to ask: Is this really my race? If yes, run.

Take care)
Mateo