What if this isn’t failure?
What if, instead, this is failing on purpose?
Not because I’m falling short, but because I’m choosing to slow down—strategically, with full intention.
I’ve always been known as the one who moves fast. In my pace, my decisions, my life.
Earlier in my career, colleagues affectionately called me “Hurricane” because the speed of my steps coming down the hall literally made things shake.
I’ve spent my whole life in motion, treating every opening as an opportunity to move—quickly, ambitiously, upward.
But suddenly, I’ve found myself stepping differently.
It’s not a lack of drive—it’s a different kind of drive.
The truth is that I’ve never given myself permission to pause.
In college, I put myself through school by winning scholarships and writing contests. By the time I graduated a quarter early with distinction, my job search was already accomplished: I crossed the commencement stage on a Friday and started my dream job the following Monday.
That rhythm didn’t let up. As I neared the 10-year mark in my tenure at my last company, I became the first employee eligible for a month-long sabbatical. But just as I was preparing to take it, I was offered the CEO role. And how do you take a sabbatical when you’re about to lead the company?
So I didn’t pause. I sped up.
But this time is different.
Even as a little girl, I was wired to go. I had plans to save the rainforest and change the world before I even finished elementary school. At 16, I briefly dreamed of becoming an actress. But I scolded myself. I couldn’t indulge such a passion! I had a responsibility to do something more serious and important with my one precious—no, purposeful—life.
That thread has run through everything. It’s why I’ve always kept moving. Why I’ve spent decades in high-achieving, mission-driven work.
But now, here I am: the founder of a brand-new venture, putting up an “Open for Business” sign and “Drive Slow” signal at the same time.
With Boss Moves Co. officially launched, I expected to feel a surge of energy hurtling me toward the next big horizon.
After all, that feeling of momentum has always been there to push me forward.
Instead, I feel a pull to slow down.
Not to stop—just a sense that I don’t need to be in overdrive.
Instead, I want to listen.
To breathe.
To allow my new business to unfold, rather than be forced into being.
This shift has required me to confront my inner hyper-achiever—the one who equates movement with momentum, busyness with value, visibility with success.
She’s still here—but I’m no longer letting her take the lead.
I’m giving more airtime to a different voice now. One that values depth over pace. One that asks not how much can I do, but what matters most?
Reconciling those voices is uncomfortable. But honest. And it’s helping me lead and serve from a place that’s more grounded, creative, and sustainable.
What my clients get in this season is my clearest thinking. My ability to step back, see both the forest and the trees, and offer strategies that aren’t just efficient—but aligned.
Take my recent engagement with ZENworks Yoga, for example. I came onboard this tiny nonprofit to help answer a focused set of operational questions—adjustments that, at first glance, would have made minor improvements within their existing model. But what I saw was something bigger: an opportunity to realign their strategy more closely with their mission.
What emerged was a clearer, more honest conversation about value, pricing, and sustainability. Together, we shifted the focus from small fixes to smarter, more mission-aligned decisions that laid the groundwork for a more confident and durable income strategy.
What did this mean for this season of the organization’s strategy and growth?
Working with Dana was a game-changer. She brought clarity, structure, and a thoughtful approach to reshape our financial strategy. Her guidance helped us understand our numbers and empowered us to make confident, strategic decisions for smarter growth.
– Sonya Patel, Founder, ZENworks Yoga
That feedback affirms: Growth that’s not just about getting bigger, but about getting clearer—sharpening focus, aligning with purpose, and moving forward in ways that matter.
We often treat growth as a straight line: bigger team, broader scope, higher numbers. But what if real growth is more complex? More cyclical? What if it sometimes looks like getting smaller before growing stronger?
I recently caught up with my former boss, leader of a large nonprofit in California, about scaling down as a way of leveling up. In recent years, his organization had expanded rapidly to meet urgent community needs. The team grew. The programs multiplied. The mission stretched wide to respond to the moment.
But as the landscape shifted, he had to acknowledge that the organization’s structure and scope no longer aligned with its sustainability or its greatest potential.
He made the difficult—and courageous—decision to downsize. Staff roles were released. Programs were refined. Not as an act of failure, but of responsible resource stewardship. His job, as he saw it, was not to grow for growth’s sake but to lead with discernment: to make sure every dollar, every hour, every ounce of energy was going where it mattered most.
That’s growth too:
And it mirrors the kind of leadership I’m leaning into myself—less about expansion for the sake of visibility, and more about elevation through clarity and intention.
This season for me? It’s not a slowdown. It’s a strategic narrowing.
It means I’m being intentional about the clients I work with, the projects I say yes to, and how I use my skills to create the most impact.
I’m focused on work that is self-generating: work that sustains me as much as it serves others.
Work that energizes rather than depletes.
Work that grows from alignment, not obligation.
It’s a shift down that enables a select up: a refinement of energy, value, and purpose.
Kathy Oneto, author of the new book and movement Sustainable Ambition, left me a personal comment on LinkedIn that hit home:
Ambition ebbs and flows. It’s no wonder we need breaks. Such pauses are often necessary to allow space for life ambitions or figuring out what’s next.
– Kathy Oneto, Sustainable Ambition
It’s a reminder that ambition isn’t always a straight line—and that sustainability isn’t a fallback plan; it’s a strategy.
That idea is echoed in Neha Ruch’s The Power Pause, a book written for women taking intentional career breaks after motherhood—but one that speaks to me, without children, too. She describes the pause as a moment for growth, self-reflection, and re-rooting long-term goals. I’ve come to believe the same is true in leadership and business.
I’ve embraced that moving at a slower pace isn’t a detour. For now it’s my path.
And if you’re also in a season of realignment—whether personally or organizationally—here’s your permission slip:
A pause doesn’t mean you’ve lost your edge.
It might mean you’re sharpening it.
May 30, 2025