If I'm being honest, I am probably the last person who should be writing about slow living.
My life is messy.
I run a business by myself. I'm raising a little girl. I have dishes in my sink more often than I'd like to admit. There are days when I feel completely overwhelmed by everything I'm trying to hold at once.
I know what it's like to feel like life is moving faster than you are.
And if you've found yourself here, I have a feeling you know that feeling, too.
The truth is, I didn't build this business because I had slow living all figured out. I built it because I desperately needed it myself.
For so much of my life, I believed I needed to become someone else before I was allowed to slow down.
More successful.
More organized.
More healed.
Less anxious.
More productive.
I thought peace was something waiting for me on the other side of becoming a better version of myself.
What I've slowly come to realize is that peace isn't something we earn.
It's something we practice.
The irony of my life is that I make objects that remind people to slow down, while simultaneously being someone who constantly needs those reminders herself.
There are candles sitting on my altar that I forget to light.
Books beside my bed that I don't always make time to read.
Mornings when I reach for my phone before I remember to reach for myself.
I am practicing, too.
Perhaps that's why this work means so much to me.
Because it isn't aspirational for me—it's deeply personal.
When I make an altar, I'm not imagining some perfectly serene woman living in a minimalist home somewhere.
I'm imagining a woman who feels exhausted.
A woman who is carrying more than most people know.
A woman who longs for just five quiet minutes that belong entirely to her.
I'm imagining you.
And, quite honestly, I'm imagining myself.
The older I get, the less interested I am in becoming someone new.
I don't want a different life anymore.
I simply want to experience my life more fully.
I want to sit in the morning light a little longer.
I want to create a home that feels peaceful.
I want to stop waiting until everything is perfect before allowing myself to rest.
I want to make beautiful things with my hands and spend time with the people I love.
That, to me, is slow living.
So if you've landed here feeling overwhelmed or behind or disconnected from yourself, I want you to know something.
You do not need to become a different person.
You do not need a perfectly curated home or an elaborate spiritual practice.
You do not need to earn beauty or rest or softness.
You are allowed to begin exactly where you are.
With five quiet minutes.
A candle.
A cup of tea.
One beautiful object that reminds you to come home to yourself.
That's enough.
It's always been enough.
Thank you for being here and for allowing me to create these pieces for your home and your rituals. This little corner of the internet—and this business—is as much for me as it is for you.
We're learning to slow down together.
With love,
Anna