What Does “Slow Living” Actually Even Mean? 🫠

hint: it’s more than prairie dresses & baked goods

Mar 12, 2025

The phrase ‘slow living’ is thrown around constantly these days.

Annnnd I’m guilty of it.

In fact, the phrase “slow down” is quite literally in the description of my newsletter. 😅

…but what does it actually mean?

Honestly? My knee jerk reaction is to think about how unattainable the Pinterest-worthy “slow living” aesthetic is in our current society where many are overworked, underpaid, hyper-connected, and over-scheduled. To put it bluntly— there’s a certain amount of privilege that would allow someone to even begin to live “slowly” in the first place.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t long for it.

Whatever “it” is anyway….

Because, I’ve realized is that the “slow living” buzzwords means something slightly different to everyone:

To many, it means homesteading, pickling onions, homeschooling, and wearing prairie dresses.
To some, it means going on hikes, shopping at the farmers market, and leisurely dinners with friends.
To others, it means putting down the phone, making time for creative hobbies, and evenings spent cuddling with a book.

And while many of those things are wonderful (and not mutually exclusive of course), they don’t quite capture what living a slow life really means to me.

As I had to reckon with recently, I’m simply not in a season that is primed for slowness.

I have three kids under three (😅), I’m working, breastfeeding twins, trying to stay on top of my responsibilities, health, and household, and life is honestly… fast.

But despite that, a mental feeling of slowness— of presence, of ease, of peace—is what I long for. What I crave.

While my to-do list feels (and honestly is) endless most days, I still want to at least try to carry myself in a way that feels calm, centered… and, well, slow.

Those two realities may seem polarizing, but I think (I hope?) there’s a way for them to exist in tandem.

I recently shared this duality casually in a Substack note, and it seemed to resonate with many of you, who chimed in with comments like:

“💯💯💯 I feel this in my bones!”
“literally my life”
“it’s a constant battle actually”

And, most relatable: “YES!! One minute I’m romanticizing slow mornings with coffee and journaling… the next, I’m making a to-do list with 47 tasks. Balance? I don’t know her. 😅”

💬 But there was one comment in particular that stopped me in my tracks….

This commenter kindly agreed to let me share her words, though she preferred to stay anonymous. Her insights genuinely sparked some reflection for me— what “slow living” really means, when it should happen, and a potential downside to this mindset…

Speaking as someone’s who current highlight of the day is, in fact, getting into my bath after the kids go to bed, it felt… potent. 😅

But honestly? She’s not wrong.

Because a truly well-rounded life can’t solely be filled with with leisurely strolls, homemade scones, and long bubble baths— it needs people! places! experiences!

While I don’t agree that slow living should be solely reserved for a certain age or people who have “earned” it, I do agree with the overall sentiment— there are seasons of your life for sprinting, and seasons of your life for strolling.

Personally, I spent my 20s sprinting, trying to “make the most” of the time before I had children. I job-hopped, I tried new things, I went on constant date nights with my husband (ahhh, the DINK lifestyle), I got my doctorate, I saw friends often, I ran marathons, I moved, I traveled…

But I think it’s because of— not in spite of— the fact that I used that period of time as a season for diligence, focus, and busyness that settling into the more “mundane” season of motherhood has honestly felt quite welcome.
An exhale.
A respite.
A new adventure.

Not to mention, many of the things I worked so hard on are currently benefitting me (again, there’s a lot of privilege here): a marriage that feels secure, an education I am proud of, a career that feels unique to me, friendships that feel solid, hobbies that are well-established…

But in order to truly embrace this current season, I personally wanted to get a lot of that “go go go” energy out of my system beforehand.

Although, to be clear, my life is currently MORE “go go go” than ever. 😅 It’s just more for others— a.k.a. my children— than for myself.

This experience has made me more considerate of the natural flows of life and when slow living is (…and isn’t) realistic.

Because, in order to feel truly fulfilled, well-connected, and embodied, you can’t move slowly all of the time. You need to put in some work. Some effort. Some speed.

Times for tenacity. And times to soften.
Times of fast. And times of slow.
Times for ease. And times to go.

And, sure, it sounds pretty nice to embrace those seasons and live in ~flow~.

But what happens realistically if you’re in a season of life that requires a lot of hard work, but you still want to embody slow living? Is it impossible to do both?

I don’t think it is. In fact, I know it isn’t, because I witnessed it firsthand…

I recently saw this powerful, beautiful quote floating around by Nicola Jane Hobbs:

While I love the message and absolutely understand the sentiment… I have to disagree.

Because I actually have been exposed to exactly one woman who lives in such a peaceful, unhurried way— my mom.

My mom was not a stay-at-home mom. For my entire life, both her and my dad worked. She didn’t come from limitless resources or abundant wealth. In fact, she grew up on a farm in a town of 81 people. She juggled countless responsibilities: career, marriage, children, chores, grad school, sports schedules, and beyond.

But through it all, she carries herself with a sense of ease. of levity. of peace.

It’s not tangible or a specific thing she *does*— it’s just the way she *is.*

Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of her quietly, peacefully reading the newspaper in the early morning, both hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee that she sipped slowly and truly tasted (I only realize now that she likely forced herself to wake up extra early to carve out that little pocket of solo time.)

You’d often find her folding laundry, washing dishes, or tackling a to-do list… but always with a candle lit and a Norah Jones CD playing softly in the background.

She would unapologetically take her evening bath as her precious alone time— though she never seemed annoyed when I’d ask to hop in as a child.

She stayed up late grading her students’ assignments or prepping coursework, but always in her comfiest pajamas, curled up by the fireplace, sipping some tea.

Simply put, she didn’t let the fact that she had responsibilities get in the way of her creating a sense of peace and ease in her life.

She didn’t wear floral dresses or make baked goods from scratch— but that’s not the point.

Because when I think of ‘slow living’, I immediately think of her.
Even though— to this day— she is one of the busiest people I know.

So why is she the “exception”? Why does she get to do both?

I think, ultimately, this duality exists within her because she is so intentional with her time.

I really can’t adequately express just how much she does for others: she helps take care of my aging grandparents, she constantly offers to babysit, she volunteers, she hosts multiple book clubs…

But whenever she does find a free moment, she pours it gently back into herself— quiet meditations, sipping her tea slowly, reading for the joy of it.

None of it is expensive. Or extravagant. Just small, intentional acts of care sprinkled into *every* day.

And the most refreshing part? She’s unapologetic about it!

Not in a way that feels selfish… but rather in a way that makes it clear these small moments of self-care are simply engrained into her everyday life. She prioritizes them. She savors them. She makes them happen. Even if it’s just a few minutes or “imperfect”.

And the result? Her energy feels peaceful, calm, slow.

Looking back at it now, especially through the lens of being a working mom myself, I don’t really know how she accomplished the balance of constantly being busy, but feeling like she had all the time in the world??? And it’s something I aspire to.

But, truthfully, I have a lonnnng way to go…

Because anyone who knows me in real life would likely say I’m actually quite the opposite of slow-paced. 🤪

I’m a certified busybody, overly ambitious, and constantly moving from task to task…

Like, even when I am cooking a meal from scratch while wearing a floral dress, you better believe it won’t be zen— I’ll be trying to multi-task in SOME way, making a mess with the flour, blasting some oldies, & taking creative liberties with the recipe solely because I like to play around & experiment.

But, with time, I’ve come to be okay with this innate, more frenetic pace of mine.

It doesn’t mean I’m “bad” at slow living.

It’s moreso that a life of total slowness doesn’t actually appeal to me. I genuinely like to stay busy! To work! To check off tasks! To accomplish! To try new things!
Sure, I enjoy the energy of ‘slowing down’, but I’ve realized that I only truly savor these moments if it’s been surrounded by a certain amount of speeding up. 😉

It’s all about finding the sweet spot.

Because when I am my truest self—thee most embodied form of myself—I am balancing my urge to go, go, go with ease, ease, ease.

Because I am realizing that my issue with how a romanticized, Pinterest-version of “slow living” movement is portrayed (wandering grassy fields, baking scones, reading by candlelight..) is that it’s absurdly unrealistic for 99% of us.

Instead— like my mom— I’m seeking a realistic way to infuse a sense of slowness into my current reality of a fast-paced stage of responsibilities, motherhood, career, and beyond.

✨ So, here is what “slow living” currently looks like for me (realistic things only!)…

Going about my workday with a sense of ease and true focus, instead of frantically switching from task to task.
Truly tasting and savoring my coffee (even if it’s the third time I’ve had to reheat it…).
Doing my best to arrive at yoga 10 minutes early, so I can walk in calm and grounded… instead of rushing in last minute, frantically trying to find a spot.
Trying to be fully present while reading my children their bedtime stories—embracing the cuddles, purposefully reading each word— and not just rushing through.
Cooking SIMPLE healthy meals— like roasted veggies or some scrambled eggs—because even basic, healthy food feels good when I slow down and actually let myself enjoy cooking it.
Simplifying my physical belongings. The older I get, the less & less & less I want— less purchases, less stuff, less clutter. What I really crave is space. Breathing room. Calm and order.
Making the time to meal prep a few key food items so that our meal times feel less rushed and more peaceful throughout the week.
Dragging myself out of bed a little earlier, because I know I am a better version of myself when I get some solo time and recenter before the house wakes up.
Trying to use my [limited] free time in ways that actually fill my soul: going for a walk, taking a bath, reading, or doing something creative—instead of mindlessly scrolling.
Doing anything in actual silence: no podcast, no music, no audiobook playing in the background to distract me.
Reading in bed with my husband at night instead of scrolling our phones (my favorite part of the day lately, tbh).
Actually making an effort to sit down to eat my meals— instead of frantically cramming in bites while standing at the kitchen counter.

Basically, I’m not churning butter in order to “live slowly”; I’m just subtly cranking up the dial on the everyday magic in low-effort ways ✨ Putting down the damn phone, romanticizing small moments, and reminding myself that things don’t have to feel rushed or chaotic in order to get “accomplished”.

It’s a complex goal, but this quote by Carlo Petrini perfectly captures it (big thanks to reader, Anika, for sharing it!)

“Being Slow means that you control the rhythms of your own life. You decide how fast you have to go in any given context. If today I want to go fast, I go fast; if tomorrow I want to go slow, I go slow. What we are fighting for is the right to determine our own tempos.”

Annnnnd, mmmmm, if that doesn’t sum it up.

It’s not that I want my entire life—my hobbies, my career, my time, my family—to slow down. In fact, many of the things I desire out of life require intensity: effort, grit, tenacity, speed.

But it’s more so that I want to move about my responsibilities in a way that has a sense of levity. of relaxation. of peace….

Do I have a neat & tidy way to tie up this essay? No. No, I don’t.

But maybe tying it into a neat little bow would be the antithesis of what I’ve been reflecting on anyway...

Because, there will never be one singular definition to “slow living”. How I would describe that term right now is very different from how I would have described it pre-kids or how I’ll describe it when my children are school-age or when I am in my 50s or 60s.

As with most things in life, it will ebb. It will flow.

Because maybe slowing down isn’t really about the pace at all.

And, sure, maybe it is just another trendy, overdone way of saying “romanticize your life” or “be present.”

…but maybe it’s something deeper. more sacred.

A quiet intuition, a gentle nudge, a mindset— reminding you to pause. to stop rushing. and to truly notice the magic that surrounds you.

Because I may be in a season of living fast, but I want to do my best to savor it slowly.

XX,

P.S. In the comments, I’d love to hear from Y-O-U: what is your unique definition of “slow living”? What specific things, people, or places make you feel like you’re embodying slowness? Do you agree with the idea that too many young people want to “slow down”? Why or why not? Let me know! ⬇️

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