There are moments in life when you feel a quiet tug – a gentle whisper from somewhere deep within. Over the last couple of years mine has been growing louder, asking me to slow down, pay attention to the small things and gather the soft, meaningful threads of my days.
I didn’t always long for a slower life. Just a few years ago, all I wished for were grand adventures and a busy life. I chased after it – good grades, a packed schedule, a job that looked good on paper. The hustle was my safety net, productivity my purpose. Slowing down felt like a failure – until I was forced to.
In 2020, I was rushing home from a roadtrip through England to get behind closing state borders. Suddenly, the world was put on hold and I was surprised to realize that this sudden stop felt like finally taking a much-needed, very deep breath. As I sat at home, working on my bachelor’s thesis, I started returning to long-forgotten hobbies and dreams I had always pushed aside because I didn’t have the time or energy to start. I got back into drawing and photography. And, in my longing to connect to other like-minded people, I started my first Instagram account sharing the beauty of nature through my lens.
As the world slowly began turning once more, my partner and I decided to move to a small town in Sweden for my Master’s degree. The slower rhythm and closeness to nature taught me to look for the beauty in the changing of seasons and made me more aware of the little things in life. It made me realize how beautiful the smallest of changes truly are.
After finishing my degree I returned back home to Germany and started my very first job. Quickly, I was drawn back into the world of careers, pay checks and professional growth. I once again lost sight of the beauty and value in going slow. Only seeing the ways in which I wasn’t doing enough yet. How I wasn’t ever enough. Once more I started measuring my life in milestones and productivity instead of presence.
But, in the back of mind a tiny whisper kept rising. This wasn’t what I truly wanted. This didn’t fulfill me the way I had hoped. This felt so exhausting. I was reminded of a line from my favorite poem Wild Geese by Mary Oliver that I stumbled upon on a quiet evening walk in Sweden, etched on a bird-watching tower: “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”
It felt like a gentle call back to myself. And once more, I realized that there is always the option to slow down, take a deep breath and re-evaluate. Belonging isn’t something I had to earn, it is something I was free to return to all this time. My truest path might look quieter, softer and more tender than this busy world had told me it should.
I hope this blog will become a space where we can find ways to rediscover the slowness and beauty together. A digital garden of all the things that bring me authentic joy and help me to find stillness and presence in this fast-paced world: currently some of these things include knitting, gardening, cooking, reading and exploring the changing seasons outside.
I want this corner of the internet to feel like sitting in a cozy armchair with a hot cup of tea and your favorite book while the rain creates a gentle song on the windowsill. Or the fresh breeze of an early summer day, sitting outside and sharing freshly-baked cake with a loved one. A place to rest, to dream and to take deep belly breaths.
I’ve always loved a good story, and I hope this blog will allow me to weave one that holds much love, light and warmth. Getting to share it with you, dear reader, already feels like the greatest gift.
Let’s follow the wild geese home together.