When people hear the phrase slow living, I imagine it conjures up images of olive trees and linen dresses, sun-drenched days with nothing much to do.
And maybe sometimes, it does look like that. Maybe there are stolen naps in the garden or afternoons that stretch longer than expected.
But more often than not, that’s not what slow living is for me.
Like this kind of reflection? Subscribe to receive weekly letters like this one - and follow our journey as we restore a storybook château in France.
Slow living doesn’t mean I’m not busy.
In fact, I’m in a season where there is so much to do. There are stories to write. Animals to feed. Children to raise. Content to create. And soon, a château to renovate and breathe life into, stone by stone.
It’s a full life. But it’s not a frantic one.
What I’ve come to understand is this: slow living isn’t the absence of responsibility. It’s the presence of intention.
It means I’ve chosen the things that fill my calendar, rather than letting the world decide for me.
I may not move fast - but I move deliberately.
And that, to me, feels like freedom.
Lately, I’ve noticed how easy it is to get caught in the aesthetic of slow living - especially online. We scroll past dreamy images of rustic villas, steaming mugs in perfect morning light, or silent forests bathed in golden hour. These glimpses are beautiful, yes, but also curated. Often intangible. Sometimes even discouraging. Even my own posts are mostly absent of the busier moments in our days.
And suddenly, we wonder: If I’m this busy, am I doing it wrong?
Is slow living only for people with more time, more space, more money, more quiet?
But here’s what I remind myself - and maybe you need to hear it too:
Slow living isn’t something you have to earn. It’s not a lifestyle reserved for the wealthy or the wildly unbothered.
It’s a mindset. A way of returning to the present.
It’s closer than you think.
This morning, I woke before the children, had some tea in the quiet, and stared out the living room window at the rain. I didn’t open my phone. I didn’t check messages. I just stood there, breathing. That little act - ordinary, almost invisible - is what slow living looks like in real life.
It’s choosing space in my day, even if just for a moment.
It’s leaving margin. Trusting I don’t have to do everything at once.
And perhaps most of all, it’s learning how to protect my time from the frantic pace of a world that treats busyness like a badge of honor.
So no, slow living isn’t about doing less.
It’s about doing less of what doesn’t matter…
…and more of what does.
It’s writing stories that make my heart feel alive.
It’s building something beautiful and real with my family.
It’s caring for this old French home and appreciating all its quirks.
It’s noticing the way the light shifts at 4 PM and letting that be enough for a moment.
And if you’re also in a season of too much, know this:
You don’t have to escape your life to slow it down.
You just have to come back to it -
on purpose.
If you want the next chapter, subscribe free. If you want the deeper, twice-monthly unfiltered letters, and to follow along with our chateau renovation, you can upgrade.
With love,
Kamille
A note for new readers: we’re an American family living in rural France, restoring a small château, and writing it all down here.
🌿 Next up (subscribe so you don’t miss it):
