I used to be that person who treated life like a race with no finish line. You know the type — tea in one hand, phone in the other, always muttering “sorry, can’t talk, running late” to everyone I passed.
Then came That Tuesday.
My internet died. Phone battery? Dead as a doorknob. And there I was, sitting in my kitchen, listening to rain tap against the window for the first time in… honestly, I couldn’t remember how long. No podcast playing. No news headlines scrolling. Just me and the rain having a quiet conversation about how I’d been living my life.
Here’s the wild thing – that morning changed everything. Not in a dramatic, movie-moment way. More like a gentle wake-up call from an old friend who knows you better than you know yourself.
I started noticing stuff. Like, really noticing. The way the steam dances from my tea or Crio Bru in the morning light (sounds poetic, but I swear it’s mesmerizing). The ridiculous happy dance my dog does every single morning, like she’s discovering the world for the first time. The smell of my neighbor’s jasmine plant that I must’ve walked past a hundred times without ever really smelling.
Can I be honest? Slowing down felt weird at first. My brain would throw tantrums like a toddler in the candy aisle — “But what about that email? That meeting prep? That thing you’re probably forgetting right now?” But here’s what I learned: the world doesn’t actually end if you take five minutes to watch a squirrel figure out how to raid your bird feeder.
Remember being a kid? Everything was fascinating. EVERYTHING. I watched my niece spend 20 minutes talking to a ladybug last week. When was the last time any of us found something that captivating?
Look, I’m not perfect at this. Some days I still catch myself inhaling lunch while answering emails. But now I notice when I’m doing it. Sometimes I even laugh at myself, put the phone down, and actually taste what I’m eating. Revolutionary, right?
Want to know my favorite slow-down hack? I started getting up 15 minutes earlier (stay with me here). Not to be more productive — just to sit on my back steps with my tea and listen to the world wake up. Some mornings it’s just garbage trucks and car alarms. But sometimes it’s bird songs and whispers of wind through leaves, and those mornings? Pure magic.
The funny thing is, this slowness stuff is kind of contagious. My husband started joining me for those morning tea moments. Then my neighbor started waving instead of rushing past. Small ripples, but they matter.
You don’t have to overhaul your entire life. Start tiny. Next time you’re waiting for your coffee to brew, just… wait. Don’t check your phone. Don’t make a to-do list. Just watch the coffee drip and breathe. Sounds simple, right? That’s because it is.
I still have my chaotic days. Still send texts while walking (and occasionally bump into things). Still lose whole evenings to Netflix. But now I have these pockets of slowness too, these little moments when I remember to actually show up for my own life.
So here’s my challenge to you (and yes, it’s ridiculously simple): Find one moment today — just one — to slow down and notice something. Anything. The way your kid’s hair curls after a bath. The weird face your cat makes when sleeping. The perfect crunch of that apple you’re about to eat.
Because life isn’t just about getting through the day. It’s about actually being there for it.
And hey, if you need me, I’ll be on my back steps, having tea with the sunrise. Feel free to join — there’s always an extra mug.