I’ve decided that trying a slow living lifestyle is what I need to avoid insanity.
I am a location-independent writer and self-diagnosed highly sensitive person. My inner monologue often sounds like Sheldon Cooper having a minor existential crisis over a spreadsheet. And I’ve read The Death of Ivan Ilych. I know how the “hustle” ends. Quite frankly, I’d rather be sitting in my apartment, nursing a hand-poured drip coffee, than running a rat race I never signed up for.
If, like me, your nervous system is vibrating like a faulty fridge, you’re also likely tired of the unrelenting pace of modern life.
Consider this your survival manual to help you ditch the soul-crushing hedonic treadmill. Together, let’s rediscover a life lived with unhurried intention.
What exactly is slow living?
The slow living movement is a rebellion against a society that worships at the altar of “busy”. It is a conscious approach that prioritises meaning and presence over the tyrannical trinity of speed, efficiency, and productivity. It’s about maintaining deep connections with loved ones, hobbies, and nature.
It kicked off in 1989 when Carlo Petrini protested a McDonald’s opening in Rome. He argued that our quest for slowness allows us to rediscover taste in a world of bland, fast-track existence.
Ancient schools of wisdom like Buddhism, Daoism, and Stoicism provide the spiritual custodians of deceleration. Stoics like Marcus Aurelius advocated for thoughtful leisure (schole), while Buddhism encourages settling the “mindstream” (citta).
Intentional living differs from just being lazy. It’s about choosing depth over speed. It does not mean doing nothing. Although I reckon doing nothing is an underrated skill.
The core of a slow living lifestyle is making the non-essential disappear so you have more time and bandwidth for the important bits.
Why should I bother slowing down?
Slowing down reduces your allostatic load—the cumulative toll of stress that hits you after a 50-hour workweek. It’s an antidote to the pathological pace that treats us like machines.
Slowing down also means consuming less. It makes space to appreciate the present and the liberating reality of having enough. By reducing what we consume, we also lessen our impact on the planet.
Slowing down improves the quality of your connections. It opens up space for conscious relationships. You learn to listen rather than wait for your turn to talk.
People think it’s for the lazy or the rich. But if you want to adopt a slow living lifestyle, you need intention more than money.
How do I start my slow living journey?
Start by shifting your focus from “What do I need to fix?” to “What do I already have that works?” Don’t try to change everything at once. Start small and pick one habit at a time.
Take an inventory of how you spend your time and delete the apps that fry brain. Embrace the “joy of missing out” (JOMO). Feel the peace of a dead phone battery on a cold morning in a Vietnamese stone village.
Starting your slow living lifestyle involves recognising that you don’t have to be everything to everyone. Having the courage to say “no” is essential for an intentional life.
I started mine by unfollowing unhelpful Instagram accounts that trigger my comparison complex. I’m much happier reading Persuasion than scrolling through someone’s curated healthmaxxing lunch.
How can I slow down my home and environment?
Declutter your physical space to reduce mental stress. A cluttered house makes for a chaotic mind. Get rid of the broken and unnecessary things. They show a lack of respect for your home anyway.
Some suggest using “feng shui” or “wabi-sabi” aesthetics to create a mindful home. This means natural textures and colours that maximise tranquillity, like deep greys or woods.
Bringing the outside in with greenery and natural textures also has its benefits. Greenery, such as a single Monstera, can spark more joy than any expensive decor. Frame photos that make you smile, use scents like lavender, and buy towels that aren’t scratchy disasters.
Your home is the heart of your slow living lifestyle, or it should be. In my Cebu flat, I have my Bialetti moka pot that gives off the smell of an Italian café at 7 a.m. Plus, enough books to make a Stoic weep with joy.
How do I create a slow daily routine?
You can build a slow daily routine by intentionally monotasking, taking a full lunch break, and spending time outdoors.
Personally, I struggle to quit the habit of multitasking.
Sometimes I’m writing and then decide to “just quickly” check an email. The problem is, I stare blankly at the blinking cursor for a few seconds before my focus returns to what I was doing. This is Directed Attention Fatigue. And that’s about a minute of my life I’ll never get back.
Juggling tasks is counterproductive and makes you error-prone. Trying to do everything at once can reduce your productivity by 40%.
Starting your day slowly—no screens, just a cup of coffee and a book can also do wonders. You could also implement a digital sunset before bed. Put your phone outside the bedroom to avoid slumber scrolling.
What should I eat and drink for a calmer life?
You don’t need special concoctions to have a calmer life. But you can turn a simple cup of tea or coffee into a meditative act. Watch the boiling water change the colour of the leaves and breathe in the scent.
Mindful eating, on the other hand, is about relishing each bite long enough so that your brain and digestive system can register that you’re eating.
I apply this in my slow living lifestyle by avoiding the generic hipster coffee shop algorithm and making my own brew.
How do I take care of my mind and body?
There are seven types of rest: physical, mental, spiritual, sensory, creative, emotional, and social. Why is sleep not enough? Because sleep is merely one way to restore energy. If your nervous system is conditioned to be “always on,” your batteries can never fully recharge.
We are collectively trying to sustain a pace we were never designed to live with long-term. Living slowly is deviating from a world distorted by speed and greed. It is an intentional rejection of the modern culture of chronic distraction. Essentially, we need to learn how to rest properly.
Mental health flourishes in a slow living lifestyle. As an HSP, I recognise anxiety before it spirals by taking a long walk, meeting my friends for coffee, or rewatching a few episodes of Friends.
Can I work slowly and still be successful?
A common misconception is that slowing down equates to being lazy or unproductive. In reality, saying goodbye to the hustle culture is an opportunity to redefine what success actually looks like.
Success should be measured by the depth of our presence, our wellbeing, and the quality of our relationships rather than just our financial status. It turns out that a slow living lifestyle is actually a radical alternative to the modern urge for instant results.
Being location-independent, I have to be my own boss. I have to make sure I don’t feel bad about stopping for a walk or a nap. I also prioritise social rest by being a satisfied introvert who avoids the other-directed trap of constantly conforming to peer expectations.
Many people who work fewer hours actually maintain high levels of efficiency. It is about working smarter and knowing when to stop, rather than simply grinding yourself into the dirt.
Is success possible at a lower speed? By eliminating the non-essential, we open up the space to focus on what’s important. I’m not sprinting toward being a millionaire, but I aim to stop living in a constant state of emergency.
I’ve read Man’s Search for Meaning enough to know that we shouldn’t let the system dictate our pace. Why rush when the final destination is the same for all of us?
How do I shop and spend with intention?
Why do we feel the need to buy cheap, mass-produced clothing to feel a fleeting spark of false personalisation?
We are trapped in a culture that prioritises instant gratification over substance. To shop and spend with intention, we must first acknowledge hedonic adaptation. It’s the psychological trap where we adapt to new purchases so quickly that our baseline happiness never actually budges. We tell ourselves a new car will change us, but the excitement fades faster than a cheap tan.
A slow living lifestyle offers a radical alternative. It’s moving from a “mode of having” to a “mode of being”. Instead of mindlessly clicking “add to cart” for a dopamine hit, we should research sustainable brands like Dopper or TwoThirds.
In my own life, I apply this by being quite ruthless with my boundaries. I reckon I’ve become a connoisseur of “enough”. Before I buy anything more than $10, I give myself a 24-hour “cooling off” period to see if the desire survives the night.
I’ve stopped trying to find my identity in objects. Instead of shopping, I mend my own clothes. Extending the life of a garment by just nine months can reduce its carbon footprint by 20%.
My sustainable capsule wardrobe avoids the logistical headache of checked luggage and the moral headache of fast fashion. I’ve found that a small suitcase is the new status symbol.
How do I travel and play with a slow mindset?
“Plan so you don’t cram” sounds like something my boyfriend would say. He used to be in a hurry to visit every landmark in every place we visited. Today, he is brave enough to say “Let’s relax today.”
Slow travel does not sacrifice your sanity for the itinerary. It means swapping constant packing for slow stays where the local shopkeeper begins to recognise your face. A related philosophy is the Dalmatian pomalo—a lifestyle about being present and savouring simple joys without the devil of “the rush”.
Then there is the concept of “play.” Why don’t we play more as adults? “Adult play”—whether it’s board games, puzzles, or “body play” like snorkelling—reduces stress and stimulates brain growth. You don’t need to turn every hobby into a side-hustle. Play simply for the joy of it.
How do I stay slow for the long term?
Maintaining a slow living lifestyle requires deliberate choices instead of thoughtlessly reacting to the Pavlovian pings of your devices. The secret to survival is the word “no”. It’s a complete sentence that protects your energy.
I find that setting short-term goals is a big help. If I’m working, I’m only working. I don’t get distracted by the frantic buzzing of my phone because DND is always on.
But I still feel relaxation remorse once in a while. It’s that neurotic voice in my head—sounding like Dorothy Zbornak—asking why I’m not being “productive”. Scientists say this guilt often stems from our upbringing or a media-fueled obsession with perfectionism. We’ve been conditioned to think rest must be earned, like a treat for a well-behaved poodle.
How do I deal with it? I remind myself that my brain will collapse if I don’t let it rest. I trade my smartphone for my Kobo Clara. A dystopian fiction might remind me that things could always be significantly worse.
Final Thoughts
This slow living lifestyle has changed the way I view my chaotic inner monologue. Is it working? Well, I’m still a disaster, but as I’ve written before, at least I’m a well-caffeinated one. Slow living is the only way not to reach the end of my life and discover, as Thoreau feared, that I had not lived.
We only have one body, and no amount of lifestyle improvement will defeat the binary nature of life. We might as well enjoy the ice cream and the hand-poured coffee while we’re here.
Your career isn’t your soul, and your passport stamps aren’t your legacy. Find a tree to sit under, or at least a very comfortable couch. I’ll be on mine, likely re-reading The Count of Monte Cristo for the third time, because rushing through a good book is a crime I’m no longer willing to commit.