A Sunday Softening Practice
As the years flow ever onward, I continue to seek quiet and calm—a softer pace, a slower life.
The moments of stillness heal and refresh my spirit, allowing that sense of calm to flow into other areas of my life.
I caution you, dear reader, though: do not believe for a moment that I am calm, cool, and collected at all times. I lose my temper. I become frustrated. I get overwhelmed. I have moments when I am anything but serene.
And that’s okay.
These moments of intense emotion are completely normal and natural. We all have our triggers, those little things that catch us off guard and remind us, Ah, yes. This is where I still have some work to do.
Growth isn’t a destination. It is a continual unfolding.
And sometimes, the best thing we can do for ourselves is simply create a little more space within which that growth can happen.
The pace of modern life can make that difficult. There is always something competing for our attention. Another notification. Another headline. Another message. Another life to look at through a screen.
For this reason, I continue to limit my time on social media.
Less time scrolling and more time with my dog, with family and friends, with good books and cozy cups of tea. More time noticing the warmth of summer, the smell of the woods, the sound of birds. More time immersed in the moments of my own life, rather than scrolling past the lives of others.
This has become one of the most beneficial gifts I can give myself:
The gift of attention.
The gift of noticing.
When I slow down enough to notice, I find small moments of wonder everywhere.
A shaft of sunlight falling across the floor.
The warmth of a cup held between my hands.
The sound of birds outside the window.
A walk through the woods.
My dog’s ridiculous happiness at something I will never understand.
None of these moments are particularly extraordinary. And yet, together, they make up a life.
There is a simple, exquisite joy in actually being here for it.
And it is often in these moments that I realize how little my frustration and impatience accomplish. Being angry about how life is unfolding does not change its unfolding. Worrying about what has already happened does not change the past. Trying to hurry what isn’t ready to happen only creates more tension within me.
If only it were as easy to remember this in the middle of turmoil as it is when I am sitting quietly with a cup of tea.
So I pause.
I notice.
I ask myself what is truly deserving of my attention—and what isn’t.
I step away from habits that leave me feeling scattered and make room for the things that bring me back to myself.
And slowly, I begin again.
More deliberately.
More intentionally.
More authentically.
Perhaps this is what slowing down really means.
It isn’t necessarily about doing less. It is about being more fully present for what we are already doing.
It is choosing to taste the coffee instead of drinking it while answering emails.
It is taking the long way home because the evening light is beautiful.
It is reading a few pages of a book instead of reaching automatically for the phone.
It is sitting quietly with your dog.
It is allowing yourself to rest without feeling that rest must be earned.
It is noticing.
It is allowing yourself to arrive fully in the life that is already happening around you.
And perhaps that is the greatest gift we can give ourselves—not another goal to accomplish, but the opportunity to actually experience our lives as they unfold.
A Guided Meditation for Slowing Down and Living Deliberately
If you’d like to take this idea a little further, I created a guided meditation to accompany this reflection.
This gentle practice is an invitation to step away from the noise for a little while—to soften, become still, and reconnect with the simple beauty of being present.
We slow the breath, settle into the body, and explore what it might feel like to move through life with a little more intention and a little less urgency.
So find a comfortable place, press play, and give yourself permission to simply be here for a while.
You don’t have to accomplish anything.
You don’t have to get anywhere.
You can simply slow down and notice.
