Somewhere along the way, even relaxing became something we were supposed to be good at.
Wake up early. Make the matcha. Journal. Stretch. Read ten pages. Take a walk. Do your skincare. Light the candle. Put your phone away. Cook dinner from scratch. Get eight hours of sleep.
And suddenly, slow living has a 12-step morning routine.
I love the idea of slow living. I love beautiful mornings, taking my time, making ordinary moments feel special, and not feeling like I’m constantly racing the clock.
But I also have a job.
I have bills.
I have responsibilities.
I have places to be and things that actually need to get done.
And I’m willing to bet you do too.
So when I see these beautiful versions of slow living online, part of me thinks, Yes. I want that.
And another part of me thinks:
Okay…but what does this look like when I have to go to work tomorrow?
Because maybe slow living isn’t about having less to do.
Maybe it’s about refusing to rush through the life you already have.
I Don’t Want to Escape My Life to Enjoy It
I think that’s what interests me most about slow living.
I don’t necessarily want a completely different life. I don’t need to move to a cottage, grow my own vegetables, bake bread every morning, or mysteriously have nowhere to be on a Tuesday afternoon.
I just don’t want to constantly feel like I’m trying to get through my life.
Get through the workday.
Get through the commute.
Get through dinner.
Get through the laundry.
Get through the week so I can finally get to Friday.
And then Friday comes, the weekend disappears in approximately seventeen minutes, and somehow we’re doing it all over again.
That’s the part I want to change.
Because when you’re constantly waiting for the next thing, it’s very easy to miss the fact that this is the thing.
This random Wednesday evening?
My life.
The drive home from work?
My life.
Making something to eat when I’m tired?
Also my life.
The ordinary parts aren’t interruptions between the good parts. They’re most of it.
And maybe slow living starts with realizing that.
Who Are We Kidding? Life Is What You Make It
Who are we kidding? Life is what you make it.
If you were a genie who could grant yourself three wishes, what would you ask for?
I’d imagine a lot of us would come up with some combination of more money, more time, less stress, better health, the freedom to travel, a beautiful home, or the ability to wake up every morning without an alarm clock screaming at us.
And listen, if anyone finds that genie, please send her my way.
But until then, there is something worth asking:
What can I do with the life I have right now?
Not someday when I have more money.
Not when work calms down.
Not when I finally become organized.
Not when my body looks different.
Not when I have the perfect house.
Right now.
That’s where I think slow living becomes much more interesting than an aesthetic.
Because you don’t need an entirely different life to experience your life differently.
Slow Living Doesn’t Mean Doing Everything Slowly
I used to think the whole concept meant moving through the day at some impossibly leisurely pace.
That’s not realistic for most of us.
Sometimes I need to hurry.
Sometimes I have somewhere to be.
Sometimes the alarm goes off, I don’t want to get up, and now I’m moving through the house like somebody just announced a code blue.
That’s life.
Slow living doesn’t have to mean pretending urgency never exists.
I think it’s more about not creating urgency where there doesn’t need to be any.
I don’t need to eat every meal while scrolling through my phone.
I don’t need to watch a video while I’m getting dressed while also mentally making tomorrow’s to-do list.
I don’t need to turn every walk into a calorie goal.
I don’t need to turn every hobby into a side hustle.
I don’t need to maximize every single minute of my day.
Sometimes one thing can just be one thing.
And that sounds ridiculously simple until you realize how rarely we actually let ourselves do it.
Make the Things You Already Do Feel Better
This might be my favorite part of slow living because it doesn’t require finding extra hours in the day.
Instead of constantly asking, “What else should I add?”
I’ve started liking a different question:
“How could I make what I’m already doing a little nicer?”
If I’m drinking water anyway, maybe I use a cup or bottle I genuinely love.
I swear having a cup I actually like makes me what to have a cup of tea—this one is so cute and comes with me everywhere.
If I’m coming home after a long day anyway, maybe I change into comfortable clothes instead of sitting around in what I wore all day.
If I’m showering anyway, maybe I use the body wash that smells amazing instead of saving it for some imaginary special occasion.
If I’m making dinner anyway, maybe I put on music.
If I’m cleaning anyway, maybe I open the blinds and let some sunlight in.
If I’m spending twenty minutes before bed anyway, maybe I read something instead of giving those twenty minutes to strangers on my phone.
None of those things will fundamentally change my life.
But put enough small enjoyable moments together and suddenly an ordinary day feels different.
Stop Saving Everything Good
I think women are especially good at this.
We save the expensive candle.
We save the perfume.
We save the nice pajamas.
We save the dishes.
We save the outfit.
We save the trip.
We save the restaurant.
We save the idea.
For what?
Obviously, there are things worth saving for. I’m not suggesting we abandon our budgets and start lighting $80 candles every Tuesday because a blog told us to romanticize our lives.
Please pay your electric bill.
But I do think there’s something sad about owning things we love and barely allowing ourselves to enjoy them.
Burn the candle.
Wear the perfume.
Put on the pajamas.
Use the mug.
I love having a candle burning when I’m winding down for the evening, and this one is one of my favorites without costing an absurd amount of money.
Your ordinary Tuesday is worthy of the good candle too.
Let Something Be Completely Unproductive
This one is hard.
We’re constantly being encouraged to improve ourselves.
Exercise to change your body.
Read to become smarter.
Start a hobby and maybe monetize it.
Wake up earlier so you can accomplish more.
Learn a skill that will advance your career.
Even rest gets marketed as something that will make us more productive later.
What if I want to rest because I’m tired?
What if I want to read a ridiculous book that teaches me absolutely nothing?
What if I want to walk because the weather feels good?
What if I want to spend an hour doing my nails while watching something completely unserious?
Not everything needs a return on investment.
Some things are allowed to exist because you enjoy being alive while you’re doing them.
I think we need more of that.
Give Yourself Something to Look Forward To
I don’t think slow living means your life has to become boring.
Actually, I think it’s the opposite.
One of the easiest ways to stop feeling like you’re simply surviving Monday through Friday is to give yourself little things to anticipate inside your normal week.
Maybe Thursday night is the night you watch your favorite show.
Maybe Saturday morning is coffee and a bookstore.
Maybe you’re trying a new recipe.
Maybe there’s a book waiting on your nightstand.
Maybe you buy yourself flowers when you grocery shop.
Maybe you have an everything shower, put on your favorite pajamas, get in clean sheets, and disappear into a book for the rest of the night.
If you’re a read-in-bed girl, this little rechargeable book light is amazing. It’s one of those tiny things that makes an ordinary night feel so much better.
You don’t need a vacation booked every month to have something to look forward to.
Sometimes anticipation itself makes life feel fuller.
Your Phone Doesn’t Need Every Empty Moment
This is something I’m increasingly aware of.
There are so few moments anymore when we’re simply…there.
Standing in line? Phone.
Waiting for food? Phone.
Commercial? Phone.
Elevator? Phone.
Bathroom? Be serious. Phone.
And I’m not anti-phone. I love the internet. I love TikTok. I love YouTube. I clearly participate in all of this.
But I wonder what we’re losing when every empty space gets filled.
Sometimes boredom is where you notice things.
You think.
You daydream.
You notice the weather.
You remember something you wanted to do.
You actually process the day you’ve been having.
Maybe slow living means occasionally allowing five minutes to remain five empty minutes.
Your Home Doesn’t Have to Look Like Pinterest
This deserves to be said.
You don’t need a beige kitchen, linen bedding, eucalyptus hanging from your shower, matching glass containers, an espresso machine, and a sourdough starter named Margaret to practice slow living.
Your home can be messy sometimes.
Your laundry can be sitting in the dryer.
Your furniture can be from five different places.
You can eat dinner on the couch.
You can use paper plates.
You can have a basket somewhere containing miscellaneous objects you haven’t known what to do with since 2022.
The goal isn’t to look like you’re living slowly.
The goal is to actually feel present in your own life.
Those are very different things.
Maybe You Don’t Need More Time
Okay, sometimes we absolutely need more time.
I’m not going to sit here and pretend time management can solve an overloaded schedule, because it can’t.
But sometimes I don’t think what I’m craving is another four hours in the day.
I think I’m craving the feeling that the hours I already have belong to me.
That’s different.
It’s eating without simultaneously answering emails.
It’s having an evening where nothing needs to become content.
It’s going somewhere without rushing.
It’s deciding that something can wait until tomorrow.
It’s letting yourself sit down without immediately thinking of the next thing you should be doing.
And sometimes it’s simply saying:
I’ve done enough for today.
I Still Have Things to Do Tomorrow
That’s the reality.
Tomorrow there will still be emails.
There will still be work.
There will still be laundry.
There will still be something I forgot to buy, something that needs to be scheduled, something that costs more than I expected, and probably something I should’ve done yesterday.
Slow living isn’t going to make any of that disappear.
And maybe that’s why I’m starting to like the idea so much.
It doesn’t require my life to become perfect before I’m allowed to enjoy it.
I can still be ambitious.
I can still want more.
I can still work toward things.
I can still have a full calendar and big plans for my future.
But I don’t want to become so focused on creating a beautiful life someday that I forget to participate in the one happening right now.
Because this counts too.
The morning coffee.
The drive with your favorite song playing.
The twenty-minute walk.
The clean sheets.
The ridiculous show.
The candle you’re finally going to burn instead of saving.
The ordinary Wednesday night when absolutely nothing remarkable happens.
Maybe slow living isn’t about escaping real life.
Maybe it’s finally deciding that your real life is worth being present for.
And that’s really what I want this space to be about—finding realistic ways to take care of ourselves, grow, and make the lives we’re already living feel a little better along the way. If you’re new here and want to know a little more about me and why I created this blog, you can read my About page here.
I’m glad you’re here and I hope you stay awhile.
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