Slow Living When You're Not Living Slowly

Hi there! I’m Hunter. I’m a mother of a two-year-old daughter, married to my British husband, and we live in Northwest Florida along the beautiful white, sandy beaches. I share about sacred & slow living as well as my own personal journey in being a mother and a creative. Make sure to subscribe to have my posts delivered directly to your inbox. I’m so glad you’re here.

Listen, I get it. You dream of those easy-going mornings when life moves at a snail’s pace. You listen to the animals wake outside your window, immersed in nature, and living your days in tune with a simple, grounded existence.

But maybe, right now, that dream feels very distant.

I’ve felt like a fraud lately. And it’s affected me wanting to show up here in this space and write about this little thing called slow living. The truth is, I don’t feel like I’m living slowly currently at all. Life has been kicking my butt (as you can probably tell from my more recent letters) and it’s felt anything but slow, simple, grounded, calm.

I have that dream, the one mentioned above, and yet right now it feels like something that may never come. Right now it feels like I’m living in the opposite of it. I feel a lot of guilt for that, if I’m being honest. I’m not being a good enough mother, or spouse, or sister, or daughter or friend. Even deeper than that, I just don’t feel like a good enough ‘me’. I’m clawing at the surface trying to get somewhere that feels different but right now I can only see all the space I still have left to climb.

And I’m supposed to come on here and write about slow living?

When I go to type, my fingers freeze up and I’m unsure of what to say. I don’t want to complain or paint a negative picture here. When I started this Substack, it felt like such a safe haven for me. Such a special place to write about the pure magic of becoming a mother, and of my journey into living a slower life. But it feels like these last few months, I’ve just been hurtling backward. The words that used to pour out of me have seemed to dry up. I’ve been wondering lately, is it better to step away? Or do I keep showing up, real and raw, and see what comes of it?

I don’t know the answer. But I do know that I’m trying. Something I’ve preached about since the very beginning is that slow living is a mindset more than anything. It’s the way you approach your life and how you shift your thinking more than an outward appearance in the way your home, or day, looks. Yet, why is it so hard for me to take my own advice? For me to realize that I can still incorporate slow living when I’m in a season of busy, of hard?

I wish I could shake myself and say, “snap out of it lady, you’re doing the best you can.” So this is my way of doing that. It’s showing up and writing even when it feels deeply personal and imperfect.

I wanted to remind myself of some ways I can embrace the mindset of slow living, so I’ve written out a few things I’m trying to do each day to bring joy and mindfulness back into my life. I figured you might find it helpful, too.

I love to lift my arms high up in the sky and do an audible sigh, letting out any tension and welcoming the day ahead. I used to do sun salutations each morning and now I’m feeling like I might need to bring that back for myself to set myself up for a more positive day.

When I was in the trenches of depression years ago, the only thing I forced myself to do each day was walk my dog. And every day, without fail, that dog walk made me feel a little bit better. It might have been only 1%, or 10%, but it was something. Now whenever we go on our morning walks, I always think of how important the time outside is and how grateful I am for those walks. Nature is more healing than we give it credit for, and taking the time to regulate our nervous systems outside can do wonders for our mental health, especially when we’re not feeling our best.

Watching the water in my cup swirl or the froth dissolve in my coffee, taking longer to chew my food or giving a quick thanks before I eat. I find that when I sit down for a meal or to have a drink, it’s a great time for me to re-align with the day, slow things down, and be more present.

I know, the last thing you feel like you need when your life is super full is a hobby. But lately, I’ve been trading the time I usually scroll on my phone to ‘chill out’ with reading and it’s brought me so much joy. I also feel a difference in the way I talk to myself, and it’s helped me quell the comparison game I’ve been struggling with for a while. For years, I would only read non-fiction books and it honestly began to feel more like work than fun. Over the past few months, I’ve been reading lots of fiction again and it’s been such a needed change for me.

It’s so easy to go on autopilot with life and just try to get through the motions. I feel like I’ve been in survival mode for the past few weeks but I’ve been trying to intersect that thinking with a reminder that life is happening and I can either be in the driver’s seat or just a passenger (cheesy, but true). When I am feeling overwhelmed, I’ll step away from what I’m doing and go for a walk with my daughter. I’ll notice the spring blooms and the bugs coming back out. If I’m only going through the motions, before I go to bed I’ll think back through the day and find those simple moments of gratitude. I heard about lucid dreaming on a podcast the other day and it absolutely blew my mind, so I asked myself to remember my dreams and it’s been so cool to see myself play out certain scenarios while I’m asleep that help me process what I’m going through when awake. It’s these little things that add up and become our life, and by noticing them, we can make our days more rich and fulfilling.

These small changes can make a big difference, even when it feels like life might swallow you up. I’m still holding out for that dream of a perfect day of slow living, but I’m beginning to realize that maybe slow living is about adopting a way of life that isn’t swayed by the hustle and bustle that we can so easily get sucked into, but remembering there is calm within us and we can tap into it whenever we need. Maybe it’s less about what it looks like and more about what it feels like. Maybe slow living isn’t a destination to reach but a journey to revel in. It might be unconventional, but it’s what slow living means to me.