Slow Living in a Fast World

Finding softness in the middle of a demanding world

There’s a moment in every woman’s life when the future becomes so clear that it almost feels tangible. You can see a life you desperately want — vivid, warm, inviting — but it stays just out of reach, like sunlight caught behind glass. You can feel its glow, you can bask in it for a moment, but you can’t quite touch it.

That’s where I am right now.

I’m not lost. I know exactly where I am, even if I sometimes struggle to remember who I am. I’m not stuck, either. I am taking steps every single day toward the life I can see so clearly.

I’m just living in that strange limbo of in-between.

I’m in between the dreamy version of a life that visits me at 3 AM and my current reality of school bells, parent meetings, and behavior calls.

But if I let myself pause long enough, I swear I can hear the siren call of my future whispering my name — even if I can’t hold it in my hands.

Yet.

The Life I Want and the Life I'm In

It’s there, fully visible in all its glory, but tucked safely behind glass. I can see it. I just can’t reach it. Not yet. But I know exactly what I’m working toward:

A softer, slower life.
A life with more breathing room.
A life where presence replaces pressure.
A life hustle culture could never offer me.

But while I can see that life, I still have to live inside the momentum of the one I’m in.

I still wake up every morning and walk into an environment that demands more — and then more again.

I still make to-do lists that grow faster than I can check them off.

I still crawl into bed exhausted each night.

And if I’m not careful, the hustle tries to reclaim me.

My brain tells me to say “yes” when I desperately need to say “no.”

My ego says, “I can take one more thing.”

My heart insists that kids deserve my all.

And they do. They always will. But that has never been the issue.

The issue is that I matter too.
I am also valuable.
I am also worth receiving my all.

                                                                                                                                                         A moment to pause, to breathe

Slow Wins: My Soft Rebellion

So I’ve started honoring her in small, intentional ways. I call them slow wins. 

Soft glimmers of calm in the middle of chaos.

Tiny moments where time itself seems to soften, just for me.

Slow wins aren’t tied to duty or urgency.
They’re gentle reminders to my nervous system:

“You don’t have to rush through this.”
“You don’t have to race to be done.”

Sometimes my slow wins are microscopic — invisible unless I’m looking for them.

So I started looking. And suddenly, there they were:

✨ The glow of my Christmas tree at 4:30 AM while sipping something warm.
✨ The few silent breaths in my car before walking into school.
✨ A coworker’s smile in the hallway.
✨ A pause at dinner where I notice only laughter.

Small things.

Humble things.

But they matter more than I ever expected.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           A soft ritual in the middle of a busy day

These glimmers don’t magically fix my life. They don’t erase overwhelm or exhaustion. But they anchor me.

They remind me that beauty exists inside my real life — not just inside the future I’m working toward.

They keep me from losing myself to the storm.

Becoming the Version of You that Lives Slow

These soft, slow wins don’t transform me into a new person.

They remind me of who I already am — underneath the noise, underneath the obligations, underneath the versions of myself I outgrew.

And if you’re in a season like mine — where your future is fully visible but not yet reachable — I want you to hear this clearly:

You are not failing.

You aren’t a failure if you don’t have the job you want yet.

You aren’t a failure if you don’t have the body you want yet.
You aren’t a failure if life feels too loud or too fast or too much.

You are becoming.

You are learning how to carve softness into a world designed to wring you dry. You are learning how to honor the version of yourself who has been whispering, “Please slow down, please breathe,” for years. And until you can fully step into the life you see so clearly…

Your soft, slow wins will sustain you.

They will remind you — beautifully, quietly — that even in the midst of storms:

You can still choose you.
You can still choose yourself.
You can still choose slow.

Even if only for a moment at a time.

If you’re walking through your own season of in-between, I’d love to know what your slow wins look like. What tiny moments are helping you breathe a little deeper in the life you’re living right now?

Comment below or send me a message — I’d love to hear your glimmers.