Tag: Gentle Living
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My father saw the world in two colours. Right or wrong, with him or against him, nothing in between. I grew up thinking that was just what conviction looked like, and for a long time, I built myself the same way. In practice, that meant friendships ran on a kind of test I never told…
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Somewhere along the way, a lot of us were taught that creativity comes with rules. That it has to look a certain way. That you need to actually be good at it for it to count. I was never encouraged to be creative growing up. Drawing, knitting, anything remotely artistic — I was genuinely terrible…
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Most people I talk to these days are carrying some version of the same weight. The injustice. The climate news that never seems to turn a corner. The wars that keep going. Prices climbing, rules tightening, the general sense that things are moving in a direction nobody voted for and nobody seems able to stop.…
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Somewhere along the way, travel became something to conquer. An itinerary to fill. A checklist to complete. A race from landmark to landmark — arrive, photograph, move on. Slow travel is the alternative to that. It’s a way of moving through the world that prioritises depth over breadth, presence over efficiency — staying longer in…
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In a world that measures worth by how much we do, doing nothing can feel almost scandalous. Not resting between tasks. Not recovering so you can perform again. Actually doing nothing — with no goal, no outcome, no productivity disguised as leisure. Just being present in a moment that isn’t going anywhere. This is niksen…
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The cashier was talking to an older woman in front of me about her grandson’s exam results. Not rushing it. Not glancing at the queue. Just listening, the way you listen when you’ve known someone for twenty years and their grandson’s exam results actually matter to you. Behind me, a woman in hiking sandals was…