Yesterday, a powerful poem resurfaced in my memory, the “Slow Dance Poem,” famously shared in Tim Ferriss’s book, The 4-Hour Work Week. Rereading it brought back a flood of memories from a pivotal time in my career.
Back then, my company was experiencing incredible growth. Sales were soaring, and we were expanding rapidly. It felt like everything was falling into place. Our nurses were in high demand, and our business plan was unfolding perfectly. It was an exhilarating period.
Fueled by ambition and a relentless drive, my inner voice was chanting, “More, do more, work harder!” Despite the external success, I was also exploring mindfulness through meditation and devouring leadership books, including Tim Ferriss’s The 4-Hour Work Week. It was in this book, towards the end, that I encountered the profound words of the “Slow Dance Poem.”
As I read the poem, something shifted within me. I paused, looked around, and tears welled up. The relentless pace I had been pushing myself towards suddenly felt unsustainable. I turned off my computer, gathered my things, and quietly said goodbye to my team, leaving the office to go home. The message of the poem had struck a deep chord.
The Slow Dance Poem
Have you ever watched kids, on a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain, slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading light?*You’d better slow down, don’t dance so fast.
Time is short, the music won’t last.*
Do you run through each day, on the Fly?
When you ask: ‘How are you?‘ Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done, do you lie in your bed,
with the next hundred chores running through your head?*You’d better slow down, don’t dance so fast.
Time is short, the music won’t last.*
Ever told your child, ‘we’ll do it tomorrow’?
And in your haste, not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch, let a good friendship die,
’cause you never had time to call and say, ‘Hi’?*You’d better slow down, don’t dance so fast.
Time is short, the music won’t last.*
When you run so fast to get somewhere,
you miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
it is like an unopened gift thrown away.Life is not a race. Do take it slower.
Hear the music, before the song is over.
David L Weatherford, Child Psychologist
Alt text: “Slow dance clipart” inspired image of children joyfully riding a merry-go-round, symbolizing the simple joys of life often missed in a fast-paced world.
During my next coaching call with Leanne in Canada, the poem’s impact was evident as I refocused on my vision for the company. This poem, “Slow Dance,” was intrinsically linked to a significant decision I was on the verge of making. I resolved to make some substantial changes for my future, and for everyone connected to the company.
I faced a pivotal choice: continue to build and expand, or take a different path. Deep down, I knew I wanted to give myself the gift of setting the business up for sale. I wanted to step away and explore what else life had in store for me.
The words, “I will sell,” resonated with certainty, sending a shiver of recognition through me. It was a profound knowing, the undeniable right decision.
So, I dedicated myself to preparing the business for sale, ensuring it was a professional, quality-assured operation, optimized for acquisition.
However, timing is often unpredictable. The nursing industry entered an unprecedented period of difficulty in the following 18 months. A new state government implemented changes that severely impacted nurses’ jobs and related businesses, including ours. Amidst this professional turmoil, personal tragedies struck. My father received a diagnosis of metastatic melanoma, and we lost him six months later. A young family member tragically died in a publicized accident and was never found.
Alt text: “Slow dance clipart” style image of a silhouette gazing at a peaceful sunset, representing slowing down and appreciating life’s fleeting moments.
While the nursing industry’s challenges and profound personal grief consumed me, a strange sense of clarity and calm emerged. Looking back, I realize this clarity, this inner stillness, was a familiar companion from childhood, a tactic developed to navigate the abuse from my brother.
Even as children, we possess an innate understanding of what truly matters. I hadn’t recognized this connection at the time. Perhaps the resilience and courage of child survivors lay the foundation for our strengths, helping us identify our values and priorities. What are your reflections on this?
As the business owner navigating these storms, my focus narrowed to what was truly essential. This list was surprisingly short compared to my previous perceptions of importance. I could effortlessly discern what was no longer necessary. Without emotional attachment, I identified what needed to be sold, discontinued, or changed. I began asking more meaningful questions than I ever had as the company’s owner.
The business was sold two years after that chaotic period subsided. I had successfully steered it away from impending bankruptcy. Part of this process involved letting go of our beautiful home—another element that had shifted in my definition of what truly mattered. But that’s a story for another time.
I remained focused on my desired destination. The final sale agreement matched the exact figure I had envisioned three and a half years prior, on that day of coaching where I first articulated my intention to sell. The business was acquired by a national competitor.
Personal growth and improvement are only attainable through reflection.
I share the “Slow Dance Poem” not to keep it to myself, but to offer its potent message to you. I know many survivors, like myself, can become trapped in cycles of busyness, achievement, and burnout, often rooted in our past experiences.
Alt text: Image depicting a couple in a “slow dance clipart” style, gently dancing, symbolizing connection, presence, and slowing down to appreciate relationships.
Where are you heading? Are you rushing and worrying through life?
- Are you spreading your energy across everything, instead of focusing on the one or two things that truly matter?
- Are you using busyness and over-achievement as a distraction?
- If so, are you doing it for yourself, or to prove something to someone else?
You have the strength within you to make a change. You are a survivor. Whatever you aspire to achieve, you are capable of it. You are inherently creative and powerful.
My experience, sparked by the simple yet profound “Slow Dance Poem,” taught me to pursue what truly nourishes your soul.
If something brings a genuine smile, goosebumps, or that feeling of quiet wonder, that’s the essence of living as your authentic self.
That, I’ve learned, is all that truly matters. To-do lists? They need to become much shorter!
Believe in yourself, for yourself. Do your work for your own fulfillment. You come first.
Don’t allow yourself to burn out. The truth is, no one else will truly carry the weight of your burnout, or your business’s failures or successes. It’s your story, and it will quickly become history to others.
Make your story a beautiful one, for you.
Shared with love,
Alice
Resolve: A Story of Courage, Healthy Inquiry and Recovery from Sibling Sexual Abuse is available globally. Libraries and bookstores can order copies. Follow me on Instagram and Facebook. The audiobook is also available on over 50 audiobook platforms.
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You might also be interested in exploring “Slow Dance Clipart” to visually represent the poem’s message in your personal projects, presentations, or social media posts. Using relevant imagery can be a powerful way to reinforce the importance of slowing down and appreciating life’s precious moments.
