Practicing the Subtle Art of Slowing Down
One morning, as I wrestled tiny shoes onto tiny feet, I caught a glimpse of something that stopped me cold: complete angst in my four-year-old’s eyes. I had been rushing her, voice sharp, heart racing, desperate to make it to school now. And in that moment, I realised that I wasn’t just hurrying her. I was hurrying life itself.
Somewhere between folding the never-ending laundry, wiping up yet another spill, and trying to check off just one more thing on my to-do list, my nervous system had been stretched so thin it buzzed like a live wire. There was always something more important than simply being with my children: tidying, cleaning, errands, emails- while the precious little moments slipped quietly through my fingers. Always stressed. Always rushing. Always missing the little things: the way the morning light spills across the kitchen table or the way her curls bounce when she laughs.
I saw it then: I was moving so fast, I was missing what mattered most. And something inside me whispered: this has to change.
Expat life already asks so much of us: new systems, new cultures, new ways of belonging. Add motherhood into the mix, and suddenly your nervous system is on call 24/7. You’re navigating endless to-do lists, translating letters from school, worrying if your little one is making friends in a language you barely speak yourself.
Slowing down isn’t indulgence. It’s medicine. It’s how we refill our cups so we can keep pouring love into others. It’s also how we begin to truly experience our lives, rather than just rushing through them. Not every chapter of your story needs to be written in a rush. Sometimes the most radical act is to pause, breathe and slow down.
The Subtle Art of Slowness
Slowing down doesn’t mean doing nothing. It means doing things differently: more gently, more intentionally, more awake. Here are a few ways to practice:
Rituals of presence : Drink your coffee from your favourite mug on the couch instead of sipping while standing at the kitchen counter. Let it be a tiny ceremony, even if the children are playing loudly around you.
Micro-pauses : Close your eyes and take three deep breaths at random times throughout the day. Notice how the air feels against your skin, how the clouds shift across the sky, the sun dancing on your living room floor, your children’s little fingers trailing over your arm.
Screen boundaries : Put your phone in another room for an hour. The world won’t end, but you’ll discover just how much more vibrant the moment feels without a constant scroll.
Savoring : The way your butter melts on your warm toast, the giggles of your children playing together, the smell of rain, the twinkling lights that will be going up now during Christmas time. Let these tiny details anchor you to now.
Connection : Call a mama friend and suggest a slow walk, not just a rushed text exchange. Let conversation meander like a Sunday stroll.
Slowing Down With Your Children
Sometimes we think slowing down has to happen in solitude; after bedtime, or during those rare child-free hours. But what if slowness could also be something we practice together with our little ones?
Follow their pace : Children are natural masters of slowness. They notice every snail, every flower, every tiny pebble on the pavement. Instead of hurrying them along, try bending down to their level and seeing the world as they do.
Create slow rituals : Read the same book for the tenth time, but let yourself sink into it instead of rushing to the end. Stir pancake batter together on a Saturday morning. Dance barefoot in the living room to one song before bed.
Outdoor pauses : Linger at the playground five minutes longer, not because you have to, but because the sun feels soft on your skin and their laughter feels like a balm.
Messy moments : Let them help bake, garden, or paint; even if it takes longer and looks imperfect. Slowness is hidden in the mess, in the sticky fingers and flour-dusted cheeks.
When we slow down with our children, we’re not only gifting ourselves presence, we’re teaching them that life is not something to be rushed through, but savored.
A Gentle Invitation
So, dear mama, as you move through your week, try practicing the subtle art of slowing down. Not everywhere, not all the time. Just here and there. And when the guilt whispers, because it will, remember this: slowing down is not laziness. It’s wisdom. It’s how we remind ourselves we’re human, not machines.
Life abroad will always bring its rush and noise, but within it, you can choose to carve out pockets of stillness. And perhaps, in those quiet, lingering moments, you’ll discover that slowing down is not about missing out, it’s about finally arriving.
What’s one way you can slow down today, alone or with your little ones?