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Rest sounds simple. Until you try it. Then it turns out to be one of the harder things — especially if you’ve spent years being good at busy. Especially if somewhere along the way, doing became the thing that made you feel okay. Safe. Worthwhile. When that’s the case, rest doesn’t feel like relief. It…
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This post isn’t about burnout. Not the full, crashed, can’t-get-out-of-bed kind. Not the kind that sends you to the doctor and keeps you home for weeks. This is about something quieter and more common than that. The gradual filling of a bucket that most of us are walking around with — the one that, when…
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You’ve probably been seeing this phrase everywhere lately. Nervous system regulation. Dysregulation. Regulating your nervous system. It’s all over wellness spaces, therapy accounts, burnout recovery content. People talk about it like everyone already knows what it means. And maybe you’ve nodded along while quietly thinking — but what does it actually mean? In real life,…
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There is a version of slow living that looks very beautiful on the internet. Linen curtains. A sourdough loaf cooling on a wooden board. Someone walking barefoot through a garden with a cup of tea, unhurried, unbothered, with apparently nowhere else to be. And then there is your actual life. The alarm, the commute, the…
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I didn’t choose slow living. Slow living chose me — or rather, burnout chose it for me, and I followed along because there was nothing else left to do. I’ve written before about what burnout looks like when it arrives, and what happens in the aftermath. But I haven’t written much about what it actually…
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There’s a particular kind of morning that only exists in summer. The light is already golden but the air is still cool, the birds are mid-conversation, and the day hasn’t yet become the heavy, slow thing it will be by afternoon. On the hottest days, I’m up by five to catch it — doing tai…
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There’s a particular kind of embarrassment that comes with living somewhere beautiful and taking it entirely for granted. I’ve walked past the Semois river more times than I can count without really stopping. I’ve driven through Ny in summer — past all those overflowing flower boxes, geraniums tumbling out of every window — and thought…
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My work comes in stretches. Months fully booked, every day accounted for, and then — nothing. A project ends and the next one hasn’t started yet, and there’s a gap where there used to be structure. The first morning of one of those gaps, I’m usually awake earlier than I need to be. I lie…
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The feature photo on this post is from that trip — me sitting cross-legged on a beach in Brittany, Luke’s head resting on my leg, both of us just sitting there with nothing in particular happening. It was a solo trip, just me and the dogs. They’re getting older now, and long days on the…
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City trips often begin with good intentions. The thought of a few days away. A change of scenery. The pleasure of walking streets that aren’t your own. And yet, somewhere between booking the train, packing the car, and arriving at the hotel, the trip can quietly turn into a plan — a list of places,…
