I don’t know if this is just a coincidence. Maybe it is. Perhaps it isn’t. After I started writing this piece,  I bumped into a stranger in the elevator this morning.  Yet again, as with many conversations over the last few months, I had a conversation pointing to the same conclusion… time is going by too fast.  Days do not have enough hours for the long to-do lists and roles and responsibilities expected of us.  

Perhaps it is not the same for everyone, perhaps I am assuming that it is the same for everyone.  All I know from where I am standing is this: Life is moving too fast. It has become most people’s new normal. And while a few years ago, being “busy” was almost a status symbol, today, it’s shaping into an abnormal normal—where every conversation revolves around the unsustainable speed at which life is running.

Brené Brown speaks on her podcasts about how life is accelerating and how technology is evolving faster than our human nervous system can keep up. And maybe that’s exactly what I’m experiencing right now. My nervous system is exhausted—tired of running, tired of trying to keep up, tired of the fear of missing out, of falling behind, of not measuring up. Of surviving life and what feels like storm after storm after never-ending storm. But today, I simply cannot keep up.

What troubles me the most is that today was the day my children needed me—to help them process their own feelings of overwhelm, and their struggle with the speed of it all. And I couldn’t shield them from it. In fact, I probably added to their anxiety.

Of course, it’s not just me, and that’s why I question whether this is just a coincidence.

Is it a coincidence that my children feel exhausted, overworked, and not good enough—just one day after their academic awards ceremony? An event that is meant to celebrate effort and hard work, to encourage growth, but has long since lost its original purpose.

Don’t get me wrong—I am not an advocate for mediocrity. I believe in doing your best. I teach my children and my clients this daily: to stretch themselves, to improve, to learn, and to grow to the best of their ability. My only question after any test, any sports event, or any challenge is: Did you do your best?  Did you do the best you could with the time, energy, balance, and talents you were given?  Secondly, I ask, do you feel lighter, in line with a sense of purpose, and proud of your accomplishments?  Sadly, most times the answer is “no”.

This is probably because somewhere along the way, society (we) has changed the concept of “your best”  and replaced it with THE best. Not just in one subject, or one sport, or one area of life—but in everything. And we are sold this idea daily: that if we are not THE best, then… And here’s where I break— Then we are nothing.

We BUY into this idea constantly.

We receive the message that anything less than perfection makes us weak, makes us failures, and makes us unworthy. Are we starting to believe it? From our behaviour, it sure seems that way. We push ourselves harder, further—beyond our natural human capacity—until we lose sight of what “our best” truly means. And eventually, we do the same to our children.

If you don’t believe me, look at children today. My child was mocked by a popular classmate.  First he was mocked for being “too smart,” only to hear the very next day he was not smart enough — even after receiving straight A’s on his report card. A single B grade for a test to him caused anxiety, because it might mean he is no longer good enough. The anxiety that follows, the self-doubt creeping in… What if who I am, as I am, is not enough?

We, as adults, do the same. We say we fight for our rights. I think we might be fighting to be right. We fight to be the best.

Are we not creating our own chaos? We live in constant comparison and competition. We push our children from one activity to the next— The best school. The best coach. The best sports. The best friends. The best academic choices. The best tutors.
The best, the best, the best.

And we do the same to ourselves.
I must be the best mother.
The best wife.
The best employee, the best entrepreneur.
The best in my sport.
The best at healthy living.
The most fun, the most adaptable, the easiest to get along with.

I must have the most friends, raise the smartest kids, afford the most luxuries, be the best Christian, and take the best vacations. In the process, we teach our children—by our own example—to tear others down, to exclude those they deem “not good enough,” to measure our self worth by performance and status.

And we do it at the cost of…

Ourselves.
Our relationships.
Our marriages.
Our friendships.
Our well-being.

And then we wonder…
Why is life so exhausting?
Why can’t I keep up?
Why does the pace keep accelerating, swallowing me whole, only to spit me out on the other side… without relationships, without connection, without joy?

For what?
Money?
Success?
Looking good?

And in this whirlwind of chasing THE best, I completely lose myself.

I lose what truly matters.
I lose the privilege of pressing pause.
I lose connection.

Connection with people.
Connection with nature.
Connection with myself.

I miss out on actually living.

On creativity and joy
On the precious and fleeting moments of wonder.

On peace and that sense of fulfillment that comes with the quiet and the slow.

I miss out on noticing and appreciating how beautiful life can be in its simplicity.
On making and creating space to just BE instead of DO.
On being fully present.
On celebrating what is real, what is good, what is meaningful in the moment.

If we want to press pause, we might have to stop chasing being the best.
We might have to redefine our best and be at peace that not one size fits all.

Maybe it’s time we remember what truly matters and find meaning beyond the race.