Hey :)

I’ve been sitting with something that keeps showing up in my work, and I figured it was worth writing about — partly to make sense of it for myself, and partly because I suspect I’m not the only one dealing with it.

There’s a pattern I see over and over again.

Ideas come up. Opportunities appear. There’s urgency. Momentum. A feeling that we should be doing something — anything — to keep things moving.

And often, when I slow the conversation down, ask questions, or challenge the timing of an idea, it gets interpreted as resistance. As hesitation. Sometimes even as “putting the brakes on.”

For a long time, that frustrated me.

Because that’s not what I’m trying to do at all.

What I’m actually trying to do is think.

More specifically, I’m trying to make sure that the thing we’re about to spend time, energy, and attention on is the right thing to be doing right now.

Here’s a truth I’ve come to accept: For a lot of people, action feels more valuable than thought.

Action is visible. Tangible. Reassuring. You can point to it and say, “At least we’re moving.”

Thinking, on the other hand, is quieter. Slower. Harder to measure. And sometimes it feels like getting in the way of progress — especially when being busy has become the default signal of value.

So when you challenge urgency, you’re not always met with gratitude. You’re met with pushback.

And if you’re someone whose instinct is to pause, question, or weigh trade-offs, that can start to mess with your confidence.

You might find yourself wondering:

This is the part that’s taken me the longest to learn.

Just because people don’t value thinking in the moment doesn’t mean it isn’t valuable.

In fact, in a lot of the work we do — especially knowledge work, creative work, leadership work — the quality of the thinking is the work.

Every yes is also a no.

Every commitment has an opportunity cost.

And acting too early can be just as expensive as acting too late.

What I’ve noticed is that many ideas aren’t bad ideas — they’re just good ideas at the wrong time.

And saying “not yet” often protects something more important that needs attention now.

There was a point where the resistance to this way of working really got under my skin. Now, it bothers me much less.

Not because the pushback has disappeared — it hasn’t — but because I’m clearer on what I bring to the table.

I’m not trying to win arguments.

I’m not trying to slow things down.

I’m trying to improve the quality of decisions.

That contribution doesn’t always land cleanly. Sometimes it creates friction. Sometimes it’s misunderstood. Sometimes it isn’t appreciated at all.

And that’s okay.

If this resonates with you — if you’re someone who thinks differently, who pauses when others rush, who feels the weight of trade-offs when others feel excitement — I want to say this plainly:

That difference might be the most valuable thing you bring.

Even if it’s uncomfortable.

Even if it’s resisted.

Even if the payoff only shows up later.

Helping people shift — even slightly — from action driving thought to thought driving action is slow work. Often invisible work. But over time, it changes everything.

I’m learning to trust that.

And maybe, if you’re wrestling with the same tension, this is your permission to trust it too.

Not loudly.

Not defensively.
Just quietly, confidently, and over the long run.

🗣️👀

Chris.