Stop Rushing & Slow Down

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about rushing — rushing in my life, in my career, and even in my art.

I want to start with life. I constantly feel like I’m moving from one thing to the next, barely pausing to breathe. Even sleep sometimes feels rushed because I’m already thinking about tomorrow and everything I have to get done. I rarely give myself space to just be — to relax, to rest, to be fully present with my students, my family, my friends, or even myself.

I do my best to stay grounded in the present moment, but it’s hard. I’m always trying to give my all, to do better, to grow and because of that, I often live in the future instead of the now. But lately, I’ve been reminding myself that those two things, the future and the present, have to stay separate. If you’re always chasing what’s next, you miss the beauty of what’s right in front of you.

I tell my students, family, and siblings this all the time: there’s no rush. There’s no rush to grow up, to buy a house, to find a partner, or to make millions. Things take time. Just like wine, we get better with age. When we rush, we lose some of the richness, uniqueness, and authenticity that make life meaningful.

And honestly, it’s no wonder we feel this way — the world moves at lightning speed. We live in a time of 10-second videos, instant gratification, and endless scrolling. I’m guilty of it too — I’ll scroll on TikTok, switch to Instagram, then over to YouTube, then right back to TikTok again. Our attention spans are shrinking, and our need to “keep up” just feeds the cycle.

But life isn’t supposed to be lived in fast-forward. Like plants and animals, we need time, nourishment, sunlight, patience — the right conditions to grow. When we rush things, the results often feel forced or hollow.

The beauty of life and art is in the process, not the pace.

In My Career

As a teacher, I feel this pressure more than ever. Trying to accommodate roughly 38 students every day is no joke. Each student moves at their own pace — some rush through their work with little care, others overthink and still rush just to be “done,” and a few take their time, problem-solve, and really engage with the process. Watching that variety unfold every day has taught me a lot about patience — both theirs and mine.

Even with limited class time, I try to remind myself: they don’t need to learn everything all at once. Education, especially art education, isn’t about checking boxes. It’s about slowing down, understanding materials, exploring ideas, and learning who you are in the process.

Too often, the system prioritizes outcomes — grades, tests, products — over experience and growth. But my students deserve more than that. They deserve time to explore, to make mistakes, to be human.

School should be a place where they discover who they are, not just perform who they’re told to be. Because when they graduate and step into the world, what matters most isn’t whether they remember a technique — it’s whether they know themselves enough to express, communicate, and create.

In My Art

Lately, I’ve noticed I’ve been rushing in my art, too. It’s like I’ve been moving so fast that I’ve lost some of the joy in the process. I’ve been craving more time to slow down — to add depth, value, and meaning to my work. I don’t just want to make something quick and abstract; I want to create work that feels intentional.

My sketchbook practice has helped me reconnect with that slower pace. It’s reminded me that not every piece needs to be perfect or even beautiful. Some will be messy or unfinished — and that’s okay. That’s part of the story.

When I catch myself rushing, it usually means I’m putting too much pressure on myself — too many expectations, too many comparisons. I have to remind myself: art, like life, takes time. You can’t expect a masterpiece in three minutes. Growth comes from patience, from slowing down, from letting things unfold naturally.

The Reminder

So if you’re reading this — take your time. Slow down. Relax. Everything will be okay.

Be present with your art, your work, your relationships, your life. Make memories while you’re in the process. Have fun. Enjoy the small moments — the quiet ones that remind you why you do what you do.

Just this morning around 3 or 4 a.m., I found myself sketching again — really sketching — and it felt good. I took my time, got lost in the process, and remembered why I love art in the first place. That’s the power of slowing down.

I’m proud of the life I’ve built, the work I’ve done, and the person I’m becoming. I’m proud of who I am — as an artist, a teacher, and as Aizik Brown. I don’t want to rush through any of it. I just want to be here, present and grateful.

So here’s to slowing down — in art, in life, and in love.

With peace and gratitude,