What You May Miss Along the Way: Why Slowing Down Might Be the Most Radical Goal of All
A few weeks ago, I was heading to the Divine Egypt exhibit at the Met. You know that wide hallway with the overlook to the lower floor, photographs lining the walls, and glass cases displaying quiet treasures? I rarely linger there. Usually, I’m speed-walking through, eyes fixed on the big destination ahead, trying to outpace the crowd. I’ve got a goal, and I’m on a mission.
But that day, something stopped me mid-stride. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw bold, rhythmic shapes splashed across the walls. Matisse’s Jazz series. Yes, Henri Matisse. Some of the most famous prints he created in his later years, during World War II, when he was confined to bed and turned to paper cutouts to keep creating. These luminous collages were just there, quietly hanging in a side corridor, like an afterthought.
It reminded me of how some Oscar winners reportedly keep their statues tucked away in guest bathrooms—glittering achievements hidden in plain sight. I stopped and stood still, taking in each piece. The bright blues, the dancers, the bursts of motion frozen in color.
Eventually, I made it to Divine Egypt, and yes, it was spectacular.
But I kept thinking about that hallway—the space in between. What do we miss when we’re so intent on getting to the big show?
As an ICF professional coach, I spend my days helping people set and reach goals. But this moment nudged me to ask:
What if we forget to notice what’s unfolding right now?
When we’re so focused on the finish line, do we lose sight of the meaning found in the moments along the way?
Maybe you’ve done this too, raced toward a promotion, a milestone, or a version of success so fast you barely noticed the quiet victories, the unexpected beauty, or the art hanging unnoticed in the hallway.
So here are a few questions to sit with:
What might you be overlooking as you move toward your goal?
How will you know when you’ve truly arrived?
What if you’ve already arrived, but haven’t yet stopped long enough to see it?
Maybe that day, I was meant to see Matisse’s Jazz series instead of ancient Egypt. Maybe the lesson was that detours and pauses have their own kind of divine.
So here’s your invitation: slow down. Look around. Let yourself be surprised by what’s already here.
Your progress won’t disappear—it might actually deepen.
If you’re ready to explore your goals with more presence, curiosity, and ease, let’s talk. Together, we’ll make sure you don’t miss the art hanging quietly along your own path.