Journeying towards living a slower, simpler and more seasonal life is something which never really had a true beginning. It has always been there - even during the times when it felt absent or when I ignored that gentle pull towards something more intentional and meaningful.

Just as it never had a true beginning, my slow living path has no ultimate ending, for it is the journey - the act of discovery, exploration and experimentation - which arguably offers the most meaningful experience of all.

Sunset across countryside fields with cow parsley in the foreground, reflecting slow and seasonal living.

It’s a journey which has had its fair share of twists and turns, just as I’m sure yours has. There have been times when I’ve wondered what it’s really all about - where I’m heading, and whether it’s ultimately worth the bother.

Many have experienced similar feelings before - all those who, in their own ways, have sought to leave the rat race, and to seek an alternative way of living. Their stories are, perhaps, more radical, but for each and every one of us on this journey, our gentle experiences shape us. They nurture and nourish us, but they challenge us too. They teach us, and in this journal entry, I want to share, with softness, some of the things I’ve learned on my own slow living journey.

There are others walking a similar path

As with many things in life, when you first become aware that you crave something different - something which goes against the grain of the modern world - it can feel both exhilarating and disorientating.

It can feel lonely, because at the outset, having accepted that you might want to tread a different path, it can seem like you’re the only one. If I’ve learned anything on my slow living journey, it’s that I’m not the only one - there are many, many others who are travelling their own path, seeking an alternative way of living - one which seeks slowness and simplicity.

Hands gently cupping a pink Olivia Rose Austin rose in a garden during summer.

For all its negatives, the online world offers a hugely positive space in which we can meet others who feel the same way as we do. This is, in part, why A Life More Creative was born, so that I could share my journey, in the hope that in turn, it might inspire others.

On your own slow living journey, seek those kindred spirits who feel the same way as you do - who, on their own journeys, are discovering and experimenting - that together, you can share the joys and challenges with a sense of community and mutual understanding.

There’s no map and there’s no correct route

When you start exploring an alternative way of living - a new way of living - our instinct is to map out the journey in front of us. But on our slow living journeys, there is no map, there is no ultimate destination, and therefore, there is no correct route, even if others might attempt to convince you otherwise.

In some ways, that can feel destabilising - we live in a modern world which craves certainty - which encourages us to set goals and to plan with productivity.

Homemade cheese and herb scones with fresh sage on a rustic table.

If truth be told, there is no universal definition of ‘slow living’, and perhaps that’s the point. It means something different to each one of us. It’s a term which doesn’t exist without its own challenges - indeed, it has been much maligned. Perhaps there are better terms - intentional, purposeful, meaningful are all words which come to mind.

What I’ve learned on my own slow living journey is that I can take inspiration from others and explore how it can nurture and nourish my own life. None of us can recreate each other’s lives, and nor should we want to.

White Desdemona roses blooming in a summer garden.

We can enjoy the journey - share our journeys - meet the challenges and demands along the way together, but ultimately, our journey is our own, our version of slow living is entirely unique to us - and that is a beautiful thing.

Slow living is not an aesthetic

In the early days of the online slow living movement, we were, of course, taken in by all the beautiful Instagram posts - the linen dresses, the gingham tablecloths, the freshly-baked loaves of sourdough bread, and the picture-perfect sunlit windowsills.

These are all wonderful things, and they may be part of our slow living journeys, but if truth be told, slow living isn’t about creating an aesthetic. It runs far deeper and is far more meaningful than any preconceived aesthetic we might want to apply to it.

Spring wildflower meadow with sunlight streaming through the flowers at golden hour.

There are some beautiful Instagram accounts now, just as there were then. Be inspired by them and enjoy them, but your own version of slow living is far more meaningful and unique to you - enjoy the journey of discovery.

Slow living is not the easy option

I think there’s a bit of a myth, often perpetuated online, that slow living will solve all your problems and make life easier.

Of course, slowing down and simplifying your life is, at least for me, a hugely positive thing, but it is far from the easy option. If you’ve ever tried swimming against the tide, then you’ll have some idea what it feels like to actively choose the alternative route.

Freshly sliced homemade sourdough bread on a wooden surface.

If society is happy to take the motorway through life, then we are happy to idly potter along the backroads. There we might encounter fallen trees, loose animals and flooding - things which will challenge us, which might make us think we should have taken a different route - but we will also encounter beauty, fulfilment and purpose.

For me, that’s what slow living is about - it’s about slowing down enough to move through life with purpose and intention - to discover what means most to us in our lives. The motorway might get us there quicker, but the winding country lanes offer us so much more.

It has changed my life in ways I never thought possible

Seeking a slower, simpler and more seasonal life has nurtured and nourished me in ways I never thought possible. It has also challenged me - to think deeply about what matters most to me in life - to think about my relationship with the world and with others around me.

It has raised more questions than it’s answered, but no one ever said it was easy. It has taught me that there is another way - even if society likes us to believe otherwise - there is an alternative, and there are many of us on the journey towards it.

Slice of homemade Victoria sandwich cake with the full cake beside it.

My slow living journey has taught me so much about myself - my values, my beliefs, my purpose, and my place in the world. It has connected me with so many wonderful people, online and beyond, all around the globe. You might have read about some of them in my Slow Spotlights series - Rachel baking bread in a small midwestern US town, Alanna, a photographer and visual storyteller in Hawaii, Csermely in the beautiful Romanian countryside, and Verena, stepping back from the hustle culture in Austria.

As I’ve journeyed my own slow living path, it is the connections I’ve made - the wonderful kindred spirits willing to share the journey - who have sustained and nourished me. So often, it feels like we’re alone, that we’re the only ones. We’re not. My beautiful Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge community is testament to that fact.

Stone steps leading into woodland in Derbyshire, evoking a quiet slow living journey.

For those of us who seek a different route through life - one that goes firmly against the grain of modern society - we can, at times be made to feel deluded and daft, but in these lines which I so often quote from Oliver Smith’s book Upon this Holy Island:

‘Throughout my long journey I had encountered many people who said we were on the cusp of a great awakening, a new golden age. Some of them seemed deluded, dubious or daft, but in that short moment of communion between earth and sky, feeling the grass between my toes and sun on my face, I could not have disagreed with any of them.’

As we journey through life - as we tread our own path towards a slower, simpler and more seasonal life - perhaps we are challenged to do just that: to feel the grass between our toes and the sun on our faces - in gratitude of a journey well-travelled, and a life well-lived.

What have you learned on your own slow living journey? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. You can also join our community, Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge for weekly reflections.

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