How Choosing Slow, Simple Living Leads to What Matters Most.

In a world that glorifies busy, ambition, and always striving for more, choosing to step away can feel almost radical.

For years, I was caught up in that story. Chasing career goals, collecting achievements, and filling my life with stuff in the hope it would bring me happiness. But over time, I started to see what all that was costing me: time, peace, and any real sense of connection. So, I chose something different. I stopped chasing and began living more slowly and simply. This is the story of how and why and what it gave me in return.

 A Turning Point in Disguise

When I lost my job, my marriage ended, and I had to sell my home, alongside the grief and upheaval came something unexpected: freedom. The life I had worked so hard to build had quietly been consuming me. It had cost me presence, joy, and authenticity. In its absence, I finally had the space to see clearly. Eventually, I came to understand that I could never return to the way things had been, not after tasting what it meant to live slowly, simply, and on my own terms.

Years later, during the Covid pandemic, I watched people around me experience something similar.

With the world paused, families went on walks together in the middle of the day. The rush subsided, and something more human emerged. For a moment, it felt like a collective awakening. But it passed. Many returned to the old rhythms, the constant chase, the distracted living. I couldn’t. I had already stepped away and found something better.

 The Illusion of Fulfillment

Like many, I grew up equating success with productivity and accumulation. Society teaches us that climbing the ladder, owning more, and doing more are signs of a life well-lived. I internalised that message. I worked long hours, filled every moment with tasks, and tried to find identity in my achievements. Each new goal brought a temporary sense of satisfaction, but the feeling quickly faded, replaced by pressure to keep going.

Possessions, too, became placeholders for meaning. I bought things in hopes they would make me feel complete. Expensive clothes, gadgets, furniture that looked like the life I thought I wanted. But no matter how much I acquired, the emptiness persisted. I realised I was spending more, owning more, and doing more, yet feeling less alive.

Reclaiming Time

Time, I came to see, is life’s most precious currency. No amount of success or material wealth could reclaim the hours I lost to stress, burnout, or emotional disconnection. I started to notice what I was missing: quiet mornings, spontaneous conversations, creativity, and most painfully, real connection with those I loved.

So I made a conscious decision, I was not going to take the little money left after my divorce and lock it up in a property, then go back to the grind of working day in day out just to pay for that home! No this time, even at the age of fifty two, I was going to live day by day, minute by minute and I was going to live! Not live in the sense of getting more but in the sense of experiencing more, in connecting with life as it has been designed to be experienced.

Was that a wise decision, well to some it probably wasn’t and perhaps in hindsight I should have had a back up plan, but in reality, I wouldn’t trade the time I took to explore a world beyond the confines of the mundane we normally live day to day. And without the alarm clock to remind me that my day must start, I learned that living slow and simply adds a whole new layer to your life.

The Beauty of Slow and Simple

The transition to a slower, simpler life was gradual but profound. I began untangling myself from the identity I had built around achievement. I stopped equating my worth with my productivity. I learned to say no. I downsized, decluttered, simplified my commitments, and began creating space for what truly nourishes me.

Slow living isn’t about laziness or doing less for the sake of it. It’s about intentionality. Choosing depth over speed, presence over performance, and meaning over appearances. Simple living isn’t about deprivation. It’s about clarity. When you strip away what doesn’t serve you, what remains is often what you’ve needed all along.

But let me come clean here, one, I’ve never been much of a materialist person anyway, so maybe it has been less of a challenge for me that others and secondly I learned most of this while in a monastery in Nepal, where I studied Buddhism for the first time, straight after my divorce. And when I returned to London, I started spending weekends in nature instead of shopping or catching up on work. I cooked from scratch, journaled, made space for stillness. I chose people and projects that felt aligned rather than impressive. Gradually, I felt something I hadn’t in years: peace.

The Rewards of Letting Go

Choosing this path has brought unexpected rewards. I’ve learned to be comfortable in my own skin, in my own company and cherish my alone time. My relationships have deepened. I listen more fully. I engage without distraction. I’ve rediscovered joy in life’s simplest moments, watching the sunrise, hearing birdsong, or having time to truly rest.

Financially, I need less. I spend intentionally and save without pressure. The simplicity has created space, not scarcity. Emotionally, I feel more secure, not because I’ve achieved more, but because I’ve anchored into what matters most.

Most importantly, I feel like myself again. This lifestyle has given me the time and clarity to reconnect with my values, passions, and purpose.

Challenges Along the Way

This journey isn’t without difficulty. Choosing to opt out of the mainstream narrative of success can feel isolating. There were moments I questioned myself. At times, I worried about judgment or what I was “missing.” But each moment of doubt was also a moment of affirmation. I wasn’t missing out, I was finally tuning in.

Letting go of old habits wasn’t easy. It took work to part with things I once believed defined me. I had to confront discomfort and uncertainty. But growth lives on the other side of discomfort.

A Life That Feels Like Mine

Looking back, choosing a slower, simpler life was the most powerful decision I’ve made. I no longer feel like I’m racing toward an elusive idea of success. I’m moving through life at a pace that feels human. Real. My life now reflects what I truly care about: connection, creativity, peace, and purpose.

If you feel overwhelmed, overextended, or disconnected, know that you’re not alone. The path toward a quieter, more intentional life is open to you - right now, exactly where you are.

Sometimes, slowing down is the most radical and rewarding thing you can do.

And sometimes, having less really does mean living more.

Ready to slow down and live with more intention?

Start your own quiet rebellion today. Read the book to explore the journey in full, or join Quiet Rebellion for regular reflections, inspiration, and encouragement delivered to your inbox.