Stillness Is the Key by Ryan Holiday

It didn’t work. Only after the bloodbath at the Battle of Cannae, in
which the Romans attacked Hannibal and lost nearly their entire
army in a horrific rout, did people finally begin to understand
Fabius’s wisdom. Now they could see that what had looked like an
excess of caution was in fact a brilliant method of warfare. He had
been buying time and giving his opponent a chance to destroy
himself. Only now—and not a moment too soon—were they ready to
listen to him.
While most great Romans were given honorific titles that
highlighted their great victories or accomplishments in foreign lands,
Fabius was later given one that stands out: Fabius Cunctator.
The Delayer.
He was special for what he didn’t do—for what he waited to do—
and has stood as an important example to all leaders since.
Especially the ones feeling pressure from themselves or their
followers to be bold or take immediate action.
In baseball, you make a name for yourself by swinging for the
fences. Particularly for players from small, poor countries, showing
your power as a home run hitter is how you get noticed by scouts and
coaches. As they say in the Dominican Republic, “You don’t walk off
the island.” Meaning, you hit your way off.
It’s like life. You can’t benefit from opportunities you don’t try to
take advantage of.
But Dr. Jonathan Fader, an elite sports psychologist who has
spent nearly a decade with the New York Mets, has talked about just
how problematic this lesson is for rookie players in the majors. They
built their reputations, and therefore their identities, on swinging at
every pitch they thought they could hit... and now they’re facing the
best pitchers in the world. Suddenly, aggression is a weakness, not a
strength. Now they have to get up there in front of millions of people,
getting paid millions of dollars, and mostly not swing the bat. They
have to wait for the perfect pitch.
What they have to learn, what the great hitter Sadaharu Oh
himself learned in a series of complicated batting exercises designed
by his Zen master and hitting coach, Hiroshi Arakawa, was the power
of waiting, the power of precision, the power of the void. Because
that’s what makes for a real pro. A truly great hitter—not just a