i want to stop running
taking the slow path in the new year
Hello and happy New Year! I hope you had a wonderful holiday season and are entering this new year excited and ready for what it brings. I always love this time of year, closing one chapter and beginning another one. I’m one of those people who probably like new starts a little too much. I guess it explains why I’ve had so many Instagram handles over the years…
Anyway, I’m really happy you've joined me for this Substack journey this year. In light of new beginnings and fresh starts, I’ve been thinking about what I can change about myself this year. I’ve seen the idea of slow living floating about online for a while now and it has always drawn me in. Slowing down and appreciating the little moments of life, being more mindful of my choices and how I spend my time, feeling more connected with my body and going one step beyond “I don’t feel like doing this right now” to “Okay, why does my body need rest right now?”
As this has been on my mind a lot lately, I thought I’d dedicate today’s letter to it. Hope you like it.
It takes nearly an entire year for snow to begin to fall. It takes nearly a year to feel the sun beat down on your face. Nearly a year for the leaves to eventually turn to those beautiful shades of decay. So why do we feel the need to rush around as if something is chasing us? Where does this pull to get to the finish line as quickly as possible come from? Personally, I am not sure, but I no longer want to run.
I think as this leaf turns over once more and as the Earth begins another odyssey around the sun, I want to be there for it. Pick up the daisies for myself and bring them home, watch the orange juice run from the core into my cup, send myself presents without checking Next Day Delivery so I give myself the joy of forgetting. I think I’d like to walk instead of run, maybe even take breaks and sit down, become so annoyingly slow people will accuse me of having my head in the clouds. What a wonderful way to live.
The clouds are rolling past outside my window as I write this in the early hours. It is winter but that doesn’t mean our worlds are now devoid of colour, that there is no need to open our curtains in the mornings and admire the brand new sky. The clouds have dyed their roots pink this morning, they may not like it and switch to grey later but I am glad to have seen them at their most reckless. The trees stand like Greek statues, marking this very period in time, bare and bent from harsh winter winds but quietly preparing for their first bloom of green spring leaves, a moment I cherish every year.
This year, I want to be slow like nature. It takes nearly a year for spring to show its first bloom, and it takes nearly a year for me to settle on a project that will bring me the most joy. It takes an entire day for night to fall, and it takes an entire day for me to become so sleepy I am no use to anyone but my pillow and my dreams.
There is no rush. There is no race. There is no problem to solve. We have been given bodies to roam and explore, eyes to watch and adore, mouths to taste and minds to store.
I wish to take the slow path this year. Chat with authors in the margins of my books, scribble notes in tattered diaries instead of reaching for my notes app, release creative energy through badly painted sunsets and wobbly crochet patterns, wait for the moon at night, take time to spend money on good quality things that make me the happiest, bake sweet treats and eat in season. I want to soak up all the good and sit in the sun for as long as I can. I must move because nature tells me to but I don’t have to run.
Thank you for reading quiet reflections. Please leave a like or a comment to let me know you enjoyed this! If you know someone you think would enjoy these, please share it with them too. You can also subscribe for free below.
Love it ❤️