In my last blog post, I shared that I don’t set resolutions in January; for me, the new year’s energy doesn’t align with fresh intentions. Instead, I embrace the season of spring as the time for renewal. And this year, my resolution is simple: Slow living. To simplify and slow down. Not allowing things to disrupt my peace. For example, I would usually rush to rearrange my day for a last-minute dentist or doctor visit because they call me with a sooner opening than my scheduled appointment, which threw off my rhythm. This year, I’ll be intentional with my time. I will stick to original plans, stay rooted in my schedule, and honor the space I’ve created for myself. No more letting unexpected interruptions or things outside my control steal my calm.
There’s something sacred about the stillness of the early morning. The house is quiet, the coffee is warm, and the day hasn’t yet demanded anything from you. I’ve started embracing these calm mornings once again. Not with a to-do list or a sense of urgency, but with presence. I turn on my candle lamp, open the curtains, have bible study, and sometimes sit, letting the soft light touch my face before I say a word.
For the past couple of years, life has been legal documents and processes (Estate matters, custody modification, etc.), advocacy (Self-advocacy to get a medical diagnosis for chronic illness that has plagued my entire life unchecked. Advocacy for my son both medical and with the school system to get him an official ADHD/ASD diagnosis and the help he needs via IEP – which we officially have thank God), home projects, in addition to the usual parenting teenagers and managing a household, but these peaceful moments are becoming my rebellion, my quiet act of self-care, a reclaiming of my peace from the go-go-go mindset that have been defining my days.
I don’t refer to the love I share with my family as “busy-ness.” We travel, go to the movies, go to the gym, we stay active. But every one of these moments are my anchors, my foundation. Our two teenagers keep us going, but that is never something I want to slow down.
I no longer chase productivity. Instead, I invite it in with softness, elegance, and purpose.
There’s a difference between being in motion and being rushed. I’m learning to live with intention, moving at my own pace, without succumbing to the pressure of urgency.
For me, in the day-to-day mundane moments, homemaking is not about perfectly arranged decor.
It’s about the scent of lemon oil on polished furniture.
It’s the soft lull of a movie soundtrack while I fold laundry.
It’s the awareness of what I touch, how I move, and what I allow in.
It’s a kind of intimate connection with life that I missed when I was always rushing.
Every day may not be graceful. Living with a chronic illness is challenging. Some mornings, I’m curled up in the same sweatshirt I’ve worn for two days, trying to muster the energy to unload the dishwasher. Some days I scroll too long. Or cry. Or forget to eat or take my electrolytes.
Days such as these are the most important to catch myself, and remind myself to be intentional.
In my home, I get to choose how time feels.
If you’re in a season where life feels too fast, too loud, and too demanding, I hope you can find a quiet corner to reconnect with something simple. Romanticize things.
A soft sweater.
A favorite spoon (Inside joke).
A long exhale.
Start there. You’re allowed to make changes that slow things down and make life more enjoyable.
