Once upon a time (around 2,500 years ago), Aesop told a story about a race between a hare and a tortoise. You probably know it. A hare, brimming with overconfidence, races ahead whilst a tortoise, steady and silent, keeps going. And in the end, of course, the tortoise wins. Not because it was stronger or smarter. But because it understood something we’re still learning:
Real progress doesn’t always need speed.
We’ve been telling this story for centuries. But I wonder if it were written today, would we call it “The Hare and the Tortoise”, or “The Burnout and the Boundary Setter”?
Fast is everywhere. It’s in the inbox, the meetings, the expectations, the quick wins, and fast feels productive... and it gets celebrated.
But presence often goes unnoticed... until something breaks, until someone burns out. In coaching, I meet a lot of hares. Ambitious, capable people who are sprinting through life, fuelled by pressure, purpose, and the belief that if they just go a little faster, it’ll all make sense. They’re brilliant, but they’re often exhausted, and rarely know how to stop.
I see it all the time. High-performing professionals feeling like they’re always three steps behind, even when they’re sprinting. Not because they’re not capable, but because they’re stuck in the hare's rhythm. In our rush to achieve, produce, and win, we’ve inherited the hare’s pace. Quick and competitive... but tired.
I believe we need to embrace our inner tortoise more. Let's pace ourselves and be more present, because rarely does insight shout. In my experience it's more of whisper... and to hear it, you have to slow down and listen.
Long before coaching models and quick-win frameworks we had stories, which were early blueprints for navigating human behaviour:
- The Ugly Duckling teaches us about belonging, identity, and the pain of misrecognition.
- The Three Little Pigs is a masterclass in laying strong foundations. Quick fixes might hold up for a while, but the big bad wolf of burnout always comes knocking.
- Beauty and the Beast whispers about self-acceptance and the courage to see what's wild and true in ourselves and others.
Each story holds a mirror and when we pause to look, we can begin to retell our own. We often talk about reframing, but what if it’s really about retelling? Because the story you’ve told about yourself, 'I’m behind,' 'I have to prove myself,' 'I’m the strong one,' might not be wrong… but it's not the only version.
In coaching, I help people explore those stories. Not by erasing them, but by asking: 'What else might be true?' This is not about making the hare wrong, it’s about asking what might happen if the hare sat down for a moment, stretched their legs, and remembered that they didn’t have to run all the time.
So how do we practise presence and reflection in a world that rewards speed?
Here are three simple, powerful ways to begin:
1. Catch the twitch of the hare.
That moment, just before you bolt. When your breath shortens, your shoulders lift, and your thoughts race ahead of your body. That’s the twitch of the hare. Instead of running, remain present and still. The pause is where the tortoise takes the lead.
2. Speak in shells and trails.
If a client says, 'I don't know what I'm feeling,' ask them, 'If it were a trail in the forest, what would it be like to rush through... compared to taking in your surroundings?' or 'If this feeling had a shell, what would it protect?' Metaphor lets us sidestep performance and speak from the underside of experience, the part that’s truer than language.
3. Honour the tortoise’s path.
Transformation doesn’t need fireworks. It shows up in the slow, steady rhythm of truth-telling, journaling, consistency, walking the same route but noticing something new. The tortoise doesn’t leap. It remembers the ground, step by step. And that’s where the change lives.
So whether you're a coach, facilitator, or simply someone holding space for others, slowing down isn't a luxury, it's essential. The real transformation often happens not in the sprint, but in the stillness between steps. That's why I created something to hold that stillness.
1871: A Time Before
I created 1871: A Time Before to help people do exactly this. To step out of the noise and into reflection. To make space for story, not just strategy. To reconnect with a part of ourselves that doesn't need to hustle. It’s where the tortoises of the world finally get to feel like they’re right on time. And maybe, just maybe, where the hares are gently invited to slow down… not because they’ve failed, but because they’ve already done more than enough.
If you’re tired of racing and ready to reflect, 1871 might be the place you’ve been looking for.
A story-led world, a town full of metaphors, and a coaching tool that works by walking with you, not rushing past you.
Come meet the tortoise, and perhaps a few other characters waiting just around the corner.