Two Weeks Without Pause

The last two weeks have gone by in a blur. A bit of sadness and an eye to the future. The future; between scouting an office location, finalising the lease, setting up the space, and getting the right people on board, my days have felt like a continuous loop of calls, checklists, and decisions. It’s exciting, there’s an undeniable energy in building something from scratch; but it’s also all-consuming. In the middle of all this, I’ve realised something: it’s been two whole weeks since I’ve had any down time.

For me, down time doesn’t mean binge-watching something or spending a lazy few days scrolling through my phone. My version of switching off is meeting up with old friends—school and college mates who’ve seen every version of me, from the awkward teenager to the half-sorted adult. Those catchups are my reset button. They’re my way of saying goodbye to the worries for a few hours. No startup talk, no strategic plans, no “how’s fundraising going?” Just stories, laughter, a few old inside jokes that still land perfectly after all these years. But for the past two weeks, there’s been none of that. And I can feel the difference.

When I don’t get that small slice of disconnection, it’s like something starts tightening inside. The days start to feel heavier, even when things are going well. The smallest decisions feel like weighty calls. The joy of building starts turning into the grind of sustaining. It’s subtle and it’s real, all at the same time. The irony is, this lack of pause doesn’t come from lack of awareness. I know how important balance is. I’ve written about it, spoken about it, even advised others to take breaks. Yet, when it’s your own venture, your own dream, it’s easy to justify the overdrive.
“Just this week.”
“Once we close this piece.”
“Once we hire that person.”

But “just this week” has a habit of becoming “just one more.” 

I think part of it comes from how startups, especially in their early stages demand not just time, but presence. You’re not just managing tasks, you’re holding the vision together. You’re the one others look to when things wobble. You’re the calm in the chaos, even when you’re not feeling calm yourself. And when you’re in that role, downtime starts to feel indulgent. Except it isn’t. It’s essential. I’ve started to notice that when I go too long without those grounding moments, even my thinking changes. The world starts shrinking to the boundaries of my startup. Every conversation, every thought, every bit of energy revolves around it. And that’s dangerous, not just for creativity, but for perspective.

Because some of the best ideas, the real sparks, rarely come from sitting at a desk. They happen when you’re away from it; laughing with old friends, driving aimlessly, walking without earbuds, just being. That’s when the noise quiets and the mind connects dots it couldn’t before.  So this weekend, I decided I’m going to reclaim those few hours. No agenda. No pretext. Just a simple message to a few of my friends: “Let’s catch up. Same place as always?”  Because here’s the truth; your startup will take all the time you give it. There will always be one more task, one more conversation, one more urgent thing that can’t wait. But the real discipline isn’t in working non-stop; it’s in knowing when to step away. We talk a lot about founder resilience and mental health, but resilience isn’t about pushing harder. It’s about knowing when to recharge, before the battery runs dry.

I used to think downtime was optional, a reward you earned after a productive stretch. Now I see it differently. It’s maintenance. It’s the oil that keeps the engine from seizing. So maybe the lesson in these two weeks isn’t about lost time. Maybe it’s a reminder, that even in the middle of building something new, you have to protect the things that keep you whole. And for me, that means a few hours of laughter with people who couldn’t care less about burn rates or product roadmaps. People who still call me by my childhood nickname and remind me that before I became a founder, I was just me. 

This weekend, I went back to that. Because sometimes, the best way to move forward is to pause, breathe, and remember who you are when you’re not building.

C