When I worked my corporate job, I got into a habit of waking up two hours before the work day started. Those two hours I’d spend luxuriating in lengthy self-care rituals — reading, meditating, journaling, a slow breakfast, maybe some exercise. It became my favorite part of the day, so I vowed to find ways to make the remaining hours more like those first two. I got a glimpse of the snail life, and I wanted more.
A more elaborate slowdown happened during grad school when I was suddenly confronted with an unusual amount of free time. It quite quickly made me miserable (not lastly because as a workaholic, I had no hobbies). It was a common phenomenon among peers, by the second semester everyone was either depressed or in an existential crisis (or both). It’s only in the pause that you create space for a daunting question to arise: are you running in the right direction? Covid forced everyone into a collective slowdown, and it gave many of us misery and existential dread (or both). The snail shell can be petrifying when you’re used to running. It’s quiet and lonely in there.
My graduation to full-time snail transpired when I left New York for the West Coast. They say people in New York live to work, and people in California work to live. I was ready to leave behind 80-hour work weeks, a packed social calendar, tiring workout routines, and weekends wasted catching up on sleep. I was ready to work to live.
The snail girl lifestyle is somewhat of a spin on the downshifting movement, both of which follow the ethos of “less is more”. In a culture that can’t get enough and praises constant hustle, striving to do less is not natural. It’s much easier to chase a carrot dangling in plain sight than it is to dig for jewels hiding who-knows-where. Simple living requires you to look deeply inside because if you commit to doing (or having) less, it’s even more critical these are the right ones. If you free up time, you better know how you like to spend it in a way that fulfills you, otherwise you’ll end up like me in grad school, miserable. The best distraction from life is overworking, after all.
California slowed me down, the journey inward slowed me down. All you ever need is to be found in the present moment, which makes rushing and hustling for some distant, better future a waste of time (in theory). The practice then becomes to slow down enough to be truly present with your lived experience. To recognize your inherent worth and release attachment to external validation. To learn enoughness, and then teach it to your mind, your body, your soul. Simple in theory, enduring in practice.
But the rewards, they are oh so sweet, and they are tangible. Once you slow down, you wonder why you ever sprinted through life. More presence expands your capacity for moments of awe and joy. When you start living based on the thesis that your life now is enough, you learn to make the most of it. Your nervous system settles in a place that’s healthy and nourishing. Your relationships benefit, including that to yourself.
To find joy in the simple, you need to know who you are, and what matters to you. It takes time to unlearn everything society taught you to aspire to. As a recovering “insecure overachiever”, a term used commonly by my consulting peers, I’m still on this journey, several years in.
It poses all kinds of questions that I don’t have answers to (yet).
Are being driven and content mutually exclusive?
Is it okay to want more while practicing to find joy in less?
How can you tell the difference between drive that stems from ego (seeking validation), and drive that stems from the heart (seeking vocation)?
Is it even possible to achieve meaningful things without hustling?
Here’s what I do know, though. Slowing down is a rewarding, self-enforcing loop. Once you discover the sweet nectar of rest, the joys of true presence, and the nourishing nature of space — your soul takes a long, deep breath.
And when your soul learns to breathe again, your whole being becomes alive.
Here are some of my favorite rituals that help me embrace the snail (girl) lifestyle:
Slow weekday mornings drenched in delicious self-care practices
Prioritizing rest when the body is asking for it
Gentle, low-impact movement
Taking the time to cook an elaborate meal
Long walks
Long reading sessions
Time away from socials and media
Declining social activities that don’t excite you, guilt-free
Making plans to have no plans
Detaching worth from your work and output
Practicing falling in love with the process, rather than chasing outcomes
What are your favorite ways to slow down? Where does it come easy, where is it hard? What’s holding you back from embracing your inner snail?
〰️ My favorite blog to learn about anything slow-living
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writes about all things simple living〰️ This 15-minute meditation I recorded last year for deep rest
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shares beautiful practices and writings for daily rest〰️
writes openly about burnout and taking breaks as a creativeWishing you a slow and restful week,
Lovely essay, Julia! I agree 100% with the wisdom you expressed. I’ve been on the snail trail for a long time despite my mental affliction of hurry, worry, and never enough.
hail the snail self
soft but with firm boundaries
never wears a watch
drinking deeply of
the present moment we get
drunk on tiny things
ego versus heart
one is attached to results
the other let’s go
gazing at the wall
zen dissolves hurry worry
and never enough
George
Another beautiful writing. I love starting the morning doing things that nurture me, cultivating connecting to my heart and breath upon waking, <3