Finding my version of slow living

I never used to identify with the slow living movement. When someone once described me as a ‘slow living writer’, I was flattered, but also rather surprised. I thought of a slow life as an entirely intentional life, one in which every moment spoke of calm and quality. Every day would start by getting out of bed without second thoughts, continue with a clear, effective but relaxed focus on every task, peppered with meaningful conversations and nutritious meals savoured deliberately, and finish with reading good literature or watching a beautiful film. This is quite an appealing image, but it felt unattainable to my hectic mind.

My day looks more like this: snoozing the alarm until I can’t bear my cat’s loud meowing, a long breakfast accompanied by both news on the radio and scrolling through social media, simultaneously. Once I’m finally ready I’ll start juggling tasks, picking one then the other, changing my mind about what I want to do, procrastinating and bargaining. I get hungry often, so there is also a lot of snacking, a hastily gathered lunch, and cup after cup of coffee, all with either the radio or a podcast playing in the background. After all that I need a very long time to wind down, and usually end up binge watching TV series I moderately enjoy while also fiddling on my phone, until I find I’ll probably be able to sleep.

But this isn’t the full story. I also go for a walk every day, and do a ballet barre. I make every dinner from scratch. I love nothing more than long conversations with friends. I read sporadically, but will get lost in the right book at the right time. My house is messy and dusty, but everything in it has been carefully chosen, from the furniture to the colours on the walls. The same is true of my clothes. I journal every evening, if only briefly. And then of course, there is my work. Handmade crafts are about deliberate, slow, quality work. Whether I’m turning a pile of paper into a notebook, writing out a calligraphy piece, letterpress printing or paper making, the focus is on the materials, the process, and taking the time it needs to take.

Close-up of a notebook, pens, eraser, autumn leaves and candle on a table

I sometimes joke that I identify with squirrels – the way they are either completely still or very fast (also, I love nuts). I’m not sure I can ever retrain my busy mind to spend every moment in peaceful and meaningful activity. But I can pick the areas that matter to me, and give them the time they require. Even if I walk fast and listen to podcasts as I go, I can give an hour of each day to being out by the river. Even if I snack through sleepy mornings, I can pay attention to my home-cooked evening meal. Even I consume hours of mediocre TV, I can take a trip to the cinema or spend an afternoon reading, cocooned in my rocking-chair. And I can spend my working life learning, honing and practising traditional skills to make beautiful crafted objects, and sharing my experience in thoughtfully turned sentences.

Now I feel at home with the idea of slow living, and perhaps I can aspire to making more of my life closer to the ideal, if I do it in a way that works with my own values and personality.

I’m very pleased to have my business listed on the Slow Living Guide. Do have a look through the site and discover other wonderful, thoughtful small businesses to support and help you add to your own version of slow living.


Pin it

 
Close-up of a notebook, pens, eraser, autumn leaves and candle on a table
 
Previous
Previous

How to plan and organise your work – Part 1

Next
Next

What I mean by 'handmade'