A Journey to Slow Living
IN THIS ARTICLE
Over the last few years, my thoughts have been eating me alive...
I’ve found myself torn between the urge to slow down and savour life… and the pressure to keep grinding—working full time while juggling multiple side businesses and dealing with chronic health issues.
With barely any downtime, my chronic pain has only worsened, and it’s left me yearning for something I didn’t realize I was missing:
the simplicity of the before.
The days that felt softer, quieter. Not empty—but full of the little things that made life feel like living.
Slow and intentional living found me in those forgotten pauses—the ones I used to rush through.
It’s not about giving up ambition or unplugging from the modern world.
It’s about showing up differently.
It’s presence over productivity.
Meaning over momentum.
For me, slow living has simply been a conscious decision to not run at the frantic pace the world seems to demand.
A gentle reminder that I don’t have to sprint just because everyone else is running.
This mindset has reshaped the way I move through my days.
And if you’re here reading this, maybe—just maybe—it’s calling to you too.
Embracing a slow pace of life…
Returning to Myself: A Journey Into Slow Living
There was a moment—not loud or dramatic, just quietly overwhelming—when I realized I was burning out from a life I had built with my own two hands.
Between the deadlines, meetings, and side hustles, I was constantly “on,” rarely still, and almost never present.
My body knew before I did.
Chronic symptoms flared up like warning signs I kept ignoring.
But eventually, I had to ask myself:
Is this how I want to live?
That’s when slow living entered the picture—not as a trend, but as a lifeline.
1. The Wake-Up Call: When the Hustle Becomes Too Loud
Slowing down didn’t happen overnight.
It started as a quiet craving.
I missed stillness.
I missed waking up without anxiety sitting on my chest.
I missed having space to breathe, let alone dream.
I realized I’d been measuring my worth by my output and confusing busyness with success.
And it was costing me—my health, my joy, and honestly, pieces of myself I didn’t want to keep sacrificing.
So I began to unlearn the rush.
To shift my mindset from survival mode to something softer, more sustainable.
Something rooted in intention.
2. Letting Go of the Noise
One of the hardest parts?
Saying no.
No to extra commitments.
No to unnecessary meetings.
No to the “just one more thing” that always turns into five.
I started looking at my calendar the same way I’d look at a cluttered closet:
What actually belongs here? What can I let go of?
When you pause long enough to listen, it becomes painfully clear how many things we do out of obligation or habit—not genuine desire.
And clearing those out made space—for rest, for reflection, for real joy.
3. Making Room for What Matters
The beautiful thing about slowing down is that you start to feel again.
Not just the hard stuff, but the good stuff too.
You notice the taste of your morning coffee.
You appreciate the way sunlight hits the wall just right.
You find yourself in deep conversations that aren’t rushed by a to-do list.
Creativity, passion, and curiosity return when we’re no longer running on empty.
I gave myself permission to daydream again.
To explore new ideas without needing them to become “productive.”
That kind of freedom is beautiful.
4. Time Isn’t Wasted When It Feels Meaningful
There’s something sacred about unhurried time.
Whether it’s:
- Baking something from scratch
- Reading on a rainy afternoon
- Or just sitting in silence
It all feels like a small revolution in a world that worships speed.
No longer do I see slowness as laziness.
I see it as presence.
As choosing what actually nourishes me instead of just what keeps me moving.
5. Creating Slow Rituals That Ground You
I’ve begun to craft my days with more care.
I don’t dive straight into work anymore.
I ease in.
A slow morning with journaling.
A warm drink.
Maybe a walk or a call with someone I love.
It’s not a perfect routine, but it’s intentional—
and that makes all the difference.
Slowness doesn’t mean I’ve stopped dreaming or building.
It means I now know why I’m doing it—and how I want to feel while I do.
6. You Don’t Have to Keep Up—You Just Have to Tune In
Choosing a slower life doesn’t mean opting out of ambition.
It means reclaiming your energy
and directing it toward what really matters.
You don’t have to do what everyone else is doing.
You don’t have to keep up.
You just have to come back to yourself—again and again.
What would it look like for you to slow down?
What needs to shift so that your life feels more like living and less like surviving?
Whatever it is, I hope you give yourself permission to begin.