Some mornings, I find myself out of breath when I wake up.
It is the result not of running, but of the invisible race that begins the minute the world wakes up— inboxes, deadlines, notifications, and more.
The pace we live at is a very strange sprint. Everybody is moving, creating, and updating. And in all that haze, it can be easy to forget the little anchoring details that give life its depth — the taste of tea sipped at a leisurely pace, the long shadow of a 4 p.m. sun, the simple comfort of finishing a thought before rushing on to the next.
This post is not about doing less. It’s the doing with presence that counts.
It’s about prioritizing depth over speed, stops over pings, and soul over schedule.
Slowness isn’t laziness. It’s clarity.
I used to think slowing down was indulgent—a luxury for those with more time and less ambition. But I have since learned that slow living is not the absence of movement: It’s the presence of intention.
And, when I do slow down long enough to walk without my phone or write with no reason except to hear myself think, I notice things. I notice how people tilt their heads when they’re listening, the way my thoughts soften when I’m not fighting them, I notice the sound of silence.
Slowness is what brings me back to myself. It clears the fog.
The world will not wait — but you can.
What I’ve discovered is this: the world doesn’t slow down, but you can choose to. Even briefly. Even imperfectly.
Slow living is not a consistent state. It’s a decision that gets made minute by minute. It’s the decision to break away from a sense of urgency and say, “What really needs my energy right now?”
Maybe it’s just one meaningful conversation.
Perhaps it’s the end of reading a book, not the skimming through of three.
It could be by doing one thing with absolute, immense fervor rather than five things with mild enthusiasm.
Some of the ways I incorporate slow living (when I remember to)
- Writing longhand. No editing, no undo button. Just letting words flow.
- Going for long quiet walks, no music, only breath.
- Drinking tea like it matters. Because it does!
- Deciding to call, not text, when I want to really listen to someone.
- Allowing the day to conclude without accomplishing everything. And being okay with that.
It’s not escaping the world. It’s also about staying whole in it.
Fast isn’t always bad. But when fast is all we have, we forget how to rest, how to listen, how to live with feeling.
Slow living is a small act of rebellion in a world that rewards burnout. It’s not glitzy or productive in the way we are used to measuring things. But it feeds something deeper.
And in that quiet nourishment, we find our way back to ourselves.
Perhaps you’re reading this during a hectic day. That’s okay. You paused. You’re here. That’s already enough.
Until next time,
Ambica 🌿
mangosoul 