A journey toward slower & intentional living

The power of not living life at 100 miles per hour:

Life today often feels like it’s moving at 100 miles an hour. There’s always something to do, somewhere to be, and someone to contact and it got to be done quick and now.  

It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of daily tasks, each one piling on top of the other, forming an ever-growing list of things to accomplish. In a world where technology has made life faster, easier, and more efficient, it’s easy to forget the simple joys of slowing down and savouring the moments.

We live in an age where convenience is at our fingertips. Kettles boil water in seconds, washing machines clean our clothes, dishwashers wash our dishes, and robots vacuum the floors. We have smartphones that allow us to send messages in an instant (and of course expect instant responses), and laptops that help us send emails with just a few clicks. The days of boiling water in a pan, scrubbing dishes by hand, and writing personal letters seem like distant memories.

Life has become easy, but has it become good?

The other day, my kettle broke. And oh, how annoyed I was. I immediately thought of the inconvenience: I now had to go out and buy a new one. But in the meantime, I had to go back to boiling water the old-fashioned way—on the stove. At first, I was frustrated. But soon, something unexpected happened. I started to notice the little details in the process. I took my time to fill the pot with water, watch the bubbles appear, and listen to the sound of the water coming to a boil. I marvelled at the steam rising from the kettle, softly caressing my face and offering a moment of warmth. I found myself savouring the slow pace of the process, instead of rushing through it.

After the process of boiling water, I didn’t just sip it thoughtlessly. I truly enjoyed it. Because I had worked for it, I felt a deeper sense of satisfaction in every sip. It wasn’t just about the tea itself, but about the moments I had spent preparing it—the attention, the mindfulness, the small joys I discovered along the way – it had become a process. The tea tasted better because it felt earned, and it reminded me of the joy that comes from slowing down and savouring life’s simpler pleasures.

Slow down little girl..

It was in this moment that I realized how I have allowed life to move to fast. We are constantly rushing, multitasking, and ticking off items from our to-do lists in quicks manners  without truly appreciating the moments in between.

Life can be lived quickly, yes, but that doesn’t mean it should be.

This realization prompted me to make another small change. I decided to stop using my dishwasher for a while. Instead, I filled the sink with warm water, added soap, and carefully washed my dishes by hand. I took my time with each plate, each cup, treating them with care and mindfulness. There was something so satisfying in this simple task. As I washed the dishes, I felt my mind focus entirely on the present moment. The repetitive motions, the sound of the water swishing, and the soft hum of a well-loved tea towel drying the dishes—it was meditative. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos of the world.

Could I take it even further? I wondered. A few days later, I ventured out to buy a broom. Now, instead of relying on the vacuum cleaner, I sweep the floors by hand. The gentle motion of the broom, the sound of it sweeping across the floor, and the rhythm of it all—it felt like a form of exercise, mediations. But also, a reminder to slow down and pay attention to the small things. I was no longer just moving through tasks to check them off. I was present and actually enjoying them.

In a world that thrives on speed and efficiency, taking the time to slow down and be present may seem counterintuitive. But in those moments, when I set aside the rush and embraced the slow, simple acts, I found something more valuable: a sense of peace, of accomplishment, and of connection to the world around me.

I now enjoy taking my bike everywhere instead of using my car. Yes, I do have a car, but I reserve it for important journeys, like picking up heavy items or trips where public transport isn’t an option. There’s something wonderfully peaceful about the slow ride through the city, where I can smell the air, see the details, and hear the sounds of life around me—experiences I often miss when I’m in a car. Similarly, I love watching the countryside and villages pass by when I'm on the train or bus. Without the need to focus on the road, I feel a sense of freedom, allowing me to fully enjoy the journey and be present in the moment.

Ok, I went a bit extreme and started questioning just how easy it is to get and buy things these days. My grandmother would never have bought a jar of pickles, jam, a loaf of bread, or even ketchup. She made it all herself. Even when she moved from her house with a garden, unable to grow vegetables and fruits, she would find wild berries to make jam. She’d ask around for beetroots to pickle, and she always baked her own bread. In her way, she lived a life of intentionality, of slowing down to make, grow, and create.

So, I connected with my dearly missed grandmother. I went to the market, bought the ingredients, and started pickling. I began a sourdough starter to bake my own bread. And did my life change? Yes, in subtle yet profound ways. I found joy in thinking about the coming Monday and the beautiful tasks I wanted to do that would enrich my life, my well-being, and my state of mind. Today, I am baking a loaf of bread. Today, I have extra cucumbers, so I will pickle them. Today, I will make soap. And today, I am creating homemade cleaning products just as she used to do.

So, you might ask, “But do you get anything ‘important’ done?” Yes, yes, yes—and so much more. I started seeing the end of my to-do list. When I finally approached it, I did so with focus and mindfulness. I gave it an hour, dove into the tasks, and emerged feeling accomplished and efficient. But here's the key: it didn’t consume me. It didn’t dominate my day or cause me stress. I dedicated time to it, and I did it

with intention. Otherwise, I was busy living a slower life.

The truth is, when we give ourselves the space to slow down and savour the process, we find that the important things are still getting done—and perhaps, even more joyfully than before. In the end, it's not about rushing through life, but about living it, intentionally and mindfully. And when we do, we realize that the most beautiful moments often come from the simplest of tasks.

It’s all in the planning and preparation if we are to make this lifestyle sustainable.

We must prioritize OUR time to focus on these small, mindful, peaceful, and satisfying tasks that bring us joy and fulfilment. Make it a choice.  After dinner, I don’t just fill the dishwasher—I choose to put on some music and take MY time to enjoy washing up. It becomes a moment of reflection, where I can slow down and appreciate the simplicity of the task. Similarly, instead of buying ready-made products, I take MY time to make them in a peaceful setting, sometimes even sharing the experience with friends. These moments, though seemingly small, are essential to living intentionally and creating a life that feels truly enriching.

Your brain will thank you.

 Mette Theilmann Founder of HerEdge Cote d’Azur Club