How Principals Can Slow Down, and Why They Might Want To

Leadership often feels like a race—deadlines, initiatives, crises, and constant demands pulling us forward. For years, I lived in that sprint: building an online high school from scratch, stepping into a new principalship, completing my EdD, and supporting my own family through major life transitions. It was exhilarating and exhausting all at once.

But eventually, the sprint ended. The initiatives stabilized. The dissertation was defended. The kids moved on. And I realized something startling: I didn’t quite know how to walk at a normal pace anymore.

For many leaders, that stability—the moment when the urgent stops pressing—can actually feel unsettling. But what if it’s not a problem to solve, but a goal to reach? Leadership isn’t meant to be a perpetual sprint. The real work is creating conditions where things do stabilize: initiatives that stick rather than cycle in and out, teachers who feel invested in so they stay, systems that sustain themselves instead of needing constant firefighting.

Slowing down isn’t about doing less: It’s about doing the right things long enough for them to take root. And when leaders make that shift, the payoff is significant. With fewer fires to chase, you can focus on what matters most: developing people, deepening culture, and ensuring lasting impact.

Why Slowing Down Feels Hard

Many leaders thrive on urgency, and it’s not just anecdotal—it’s biological. When we’re in a high-pressure environment, our brain releases cortisol and adrenaline, which create a sense of focus and drive. Over time, though, this constant state of urgency rewires our brain to equate busyness with effectiveness. This is why slowing down can feel so disorienting—it’s like our brain is searching for the next hit of urgency.

Psychologists have a term for this: the post-achievement slump. Christina Maslach, a pioneer in burnout research, identified three key dimensions of burnout that often emerge after prolonged periods of high stress:

1. Emotional exhaustion. Feeling drained and depleted, as though you have nothing left to give.
2. Depersonalization. A sense of detachment or cynicism, where you feel disconnected from your work or the people you serve.
3. Reduced personal accomplishment. Questioning whether your efforts have made a meaningful impact.

These dimensions resonate deeply with leaders who are transitioning out of sprint seasons. After years of striving, it’s common to feel emotionally spent, disconnected, or unsure of what’s next. Recognizing these signs is the first step toward recalibrating and finding balance.

Similarly, Adam Grant’s research on languishing, a state of feeling stuck or stagnant, explains why the quiet after a sprint can feel more draining than energizing. It’s not depression, but it’s not thriving either. 

That’s where I found myself: shifting out of transition and into a new rhythm—practicing how to slow down and lead with more clarity, presence, and intention. Here are three ways I’ve been relearning the practice of slowing down, and why it matters for anyone leading in today’s world.

3 Ways to Practice Slow leadership

1. Reflection over reaction. In sprint seasons, leadership often defaults to reaction. The faster the pace, the more we respond to the urgent—emails, meetings, crises—rather than pausing to reflect. Yet research shows reflection is a leadership superpower. Daniel Kahneman’s work in Thinking, Fast and Slow highlights how pausing shifts us from reactive “System 1” thinking to deliberate “System 2” decision-making.

Here are some practical ways to practice reflection:

• Take five minutes at the end of the day to jot down what worked, what was hard, and what you learned.
• Before sending a quick email reply, ask: Am I reacting to their words—or to the story I’m telling myself about their words? For example, a short message from a colleague—“Can we talk?”—might trigger a defensive reply if you assume it’s criticism. But if you pause, you may realize it could just as easily mean they need clarification, collaboration, or support.
• Replace one “urgent” task with one intentional walk-and-talk with a colleague or team member. For instance, I once postponed replying to a stack of noncritical emails to take a short walk with a teacher who was wrestling with a tough class dynamic. The emails still got answered later, but the conversation built trust and surfaced a solution that had a far greater impact than an empty inbox would have.

Slowing down to reflect doesn’t stall momentum—it strengthens it by clarifying your decisions and deepening your relationships.

2. Presence over productivity. Leaders often equate busyness with effectiveness. But slowing down reminds us that presence often matters more than productivity. Being fully present—in a meeting, in a hallway conversation, or even at home—signals value and builds trust in ways a packed calendar never can.

Research from Harvard Business Review shows that leaders who cultivate mindful presence report higher engagement and lower burnout on their teams. For me, this has meant the following:

• Protecting buffer time in my schedule so I’m not rushing from one obligation to the next.
• Practicing “single-tasking” during conversations—closing the laptop, silencing the phone, and giving my full attention.
• Asking more questions than I answer, letting silence do some of the heavy lifting.

Slowing down to be present helps people feel seen and heard, which fuels loyalty, creativity, and long-term success.

3. Restoration over relentlessness. We don’t lead well when we’re depleted. Neuroscience confirms that constant urgency floods us with cortisol and adrenaline, and over time, this erodes not only our health but also our capacity to lead with clarity and compassion. Slowing down allows for restoration—refueling energy, creativity, and resilience.

Here are ways to build restoration into leadership:

• Block recovery rhythms into your week (exercise, reading, spiritual practices, family dinners).
• Normalize rest for your team by modeling it—take your vacation, protect evenings, and encourage them to do the same.
• Reframe downtime not as lost productivity but as a strategic investment in long-term leadership health.

As Adam Grant describes in his research on languishing, leaders who intentionally restore are far more likely to move from stuck to thriving.

Final Thought: Walking Forward

Slowing down doesn’t mean stepping back from leadership—it means stepping into it differently. Whether you’re settling after a sprint, navigating mid-career transitions, or simply realizing that a relentless pace isn’t sustainable, slowing down may be the most strategic leadership move you can make.

When leaders choose a slower pace, they don’t just protect themselves from burnout—they create schools where people want to stay, where initiatives have time to take root, and where culture strengthens instead of frays. In the end, it’s not the sprint that defines us, but the choice to slow down—to walk with clarity, courage, and intention—the true rhythm of slow leadership.