When I Stopped Rushing My Days.

There have been times when my days have felt like something to move through quickly. Not because I was unhappy and wanted the day to be over – but because slowing down didn’t feel like an option.
I rushed gently and often quietly – if that makes sense. Rest was scheduled and pauses in my day felt earned.

I thought I was doing things the ‘right’ way.
I realised rushing had become a habit — shaped by busy seasons, expectations, and the unspoken belief that staying ahead meant staying in control. Speed looked like efficiency, strength and competence. (It made sense at the time.)

When I consciously stopped rushing my days, something shifted. Not all at once. Not dramatically. The days didn’t suddenly become easier — they became more spacious.

When I slowed my pace, small moments began to hold more significance. A cup of tea felt like a pause instead of something to keep me going. A walk felt like an experience, not a chore. I noticed my breath without trying to. And joy — quiet, ordinary joy — started to appear in places I’d been passing too quickly to see.

I realised this too: when I stopped hurrying myself, I became softer with others. More patient. More present. Slowing down didn’t take anything away from my life.
It gave joy the time it needed to catch up.

If it feels right today:
Choose one small, ordinary thing and do it a little more slowly than usual.
Not perfectly. Just gently. Notice what shows up when nothing is being rushed. You don’t need to hurry your life to make it meaningful.

Joy isn’t an achievement found at the finish line — it’s often waiting in the spaces you allow along the way.

Go gently