As this year comes to a close, I’ve been reflecting on what “slowing down” really ended up being for me. When I imagined it, I pictured beaches, sunrise yoga sessions, sunsets with salty hair, and the kind of inner peace that glossy wellness posts make look effortless. And yes, there were moments that felt like that. But most of the time, slowing down wasn’t glamorous. It was messy, humbling, grounding and honest. It looked like a compromise. It asked me to make choices I didn’t always expect. It made me meet myself in ways I had never truly allowed before.
And in that, something shifted. Something softened. Something in me finally came home.
What Slowing Down Ended Up Looking Like in Real Life
Slowing down didn’t magically erase discomfort or uncertainty. Instead, it brought me closer to both. Travel has a romantic appeal — movement, freedom, possibility — but living in different places and stepping away from certainty is entirely different from going on holiday. There are practical realities. There are financial considerations. There are logistical challenges. There are emotional waves. I learnt quickly that slowing down isn’t about escaping life. It’s about having fewer distractions, which means you actually feel your life more deeply.
That meant learning to appreciate things I never used to notice. Gratitude stopped being a journaling exercise and became something much simpler and real. Some days I was grateful for drinkable water. Some days it was reliable WiFi. Some days it was having two pillows after a long travel day. The world becomes quieter when you slow down, and in that quiet, the smallest comforts become meaningful. You stop chasing big moments and start respecting the ordinary ones.
Letting Go, Trusting, and Giving Up the Illusion of Control
Another big part of this year was loosening my grip on control. Plans change when you travel. Places surprise you. People leave, arrive, and shape your journey in unexpected ways. Life unfolds whether you try to micromanage it or not. I began to realise how tightly I had been holding things previously — outcomes, expectations, timelines — and how exhausting that was.
This year invited me to trust more. Trust myself. Trust timing. Trust that not everything has to be perfectly planned for it to be meaningful. There is something incredibly grounding about letting life show you what it has in store instead of constantly pushing it into a shape you think it should be.
Simplicity, Humility and the Power of Saying No
Another part of this experience was becoming comfortable with simplicity. When you step away from stable income and predictable structure, standards shift. Suddenly, “luxury” looks different. You compromise. You choose differently. You realise how much you can actually live without. Instead of this feeling like sacrifice, it ended up feeling clarifying. Simplicity is surprisingly spacious. It makes room for peace.
And then there was this very real lesson: saying no.
There were plenty of things I once imagined I would love. Boat trips. Endless island hopping. Constant adventure. But when those opportunities presented themselves, they just didn’t feel like a “yes” in my body. And saying no — especially to things that look like the dream — is confronting at first. It forced me to recognise that sometimes we hold onto ideas of a life rather than the reality of what actually feels true for us. Saying no turned out to be one of the most self-honouring choices I made.
Stillness, Self-Inquiry and Meeting Myself More Honestly
Stillness played a huge part in how this year unfolded internally. Meditation wasn’t just a “practice” — it became an anchor. Writing and journalling weren’t just creative outlets — they were conversations with myself. Asking questions, reflecting, noticing what kept surfacing… it grounded me, challenged me, softened me and held me.
Books also found me in really unexpected ways. Weight limits meant I couldn’t carry many, so I ended up rereading The Untethered Soul and The Surrender Experiment twice this year. And somehow, reading them in different phases of this journey revealed new insights each time. They were steady companions when I needed guidance, reassurance or a reminder that surrender doesn’t mean giving up — it means allowing.
Movement, Food and Stillness: The Three Things That Held Me Together
Over time, everything distilled down to three simple pillars: movement, nourishment and stillness. Not as an aesthetic wellness checklist. Not as something to perform. But as a way of maintaining connection to myself.
Moving my body reminded me I was alive, strong, capable.
Eating real, nourishing, intentional food grounded me.
Stillness helped me hear myself.
When everything else felt uncertain or changing, these three things supported me. And the truth is, they always have — I just wasn’t listening to them as clearly before.
Why This Matters, Especially If You’re Feeling Disconnected or Burnt Out
I don’t think burnout always looks dramatic. Often it looks like numbness. It looks like autopilot. It looks like doing everything you “should” but not really feeling any of it. And if you don’t know what your body needs, if you never slow down long enough to hear your own thoughts, if you keep disconnecting just to cope, life easily becomes the same day repeated over and over.
Slowing down reminded me that there is so much more available — but most of it exists internally, not externally. The outer world can inspire, open, challenge and expand you. But the inner world is where you actually meet your life.
Moving Into a New Year With These Lessons
As this year closes, I’m carrying everything I’ve learnt gently into whatever comes next. Not perfectly. Not with pressure. Just with awareness and honesty.
If you’re feeling disconnected, tired, overwhelmed, or quietly craving something deeper, I want you to know you’re not alone. This journey towards slowing down and coming back to yourself is deeply human — and ongoing.
If you’re in Melbourne and want support with that, I’d love to see you in class, work with you 1:1 or welcome you into a workshop space soon. And if you’re simply reading and quietly reflecting, I hope this meets you where you are and offers some reassurance that slowing down isn’t stepping back. It’s returning.
You deserve to feel present in your own life again. And that’s worth slowing down for.
