The Art of Slow Living: Holding Onto Stillness as the Island Awakens

As Spring enters in full swing, the island begins to stir. Boats return to the harbour, clusters of cyclists fill and buzz down the roads, and the familiar scent of jasmine (and sunscreen) starts to fill the air. It’s a beautiful thing, watching this place come alive again… but it also marks the beginning of a season that, if you’re not careful, can sweep you up in its pace.

Over the years of living here, I’ve learned something important about life on an island: the quiet isn’t just something that happens in the off-season. It is something you can choose, protect, and nourish, especially when everything around you is really speeding by and you feel like you can't keep up.

Embracing a Slower Pace

The idea of "slow living" might sound idyllic, trendy even, but the truth is, it does take some real work. Choosing a slower pace in a fast world is an act of resistance, and for me personally it feels like a practice of discipline. It’s an opportunity to reshape your life in ways that aren’t always easy. It means carving out time where there doesn’t seem to be any, saying no when it’s way more tempting to say yes, and holding space for stillness even when that to-do list you scribbled out comes back calling. It’s not about laziness or inaction. It actually requires more intentional effort. But the payoff is deep: a life that feels softer around the edges. A rhythm that makes room for breath.

On the day to day, slow living for me looks a lot like:
- Observing my dog in the yard, followed by a lot of my shushing when he begins to bark at a far away bird call.
- Making coffee the long way, usually I time my morning showers by however long it takes until the kettle starts to whistle and I'm forced to shimmy into the kitchen in my towel. Maybe that one isn’t so “slow”… That one is actually a little chaotic. But the coffee makes up for it. 
- Taking walks with no destination, just letting my feet lead.
- Saying no.
- Choosing quality over quantity in work, friendships, meals, and clothes.
- Walking or riding my bike to the train station. This one isn’t particularly by choice but it has taught me a lot about showing up for myself.

These tiny choices are acts of discipline. They’re how we can build a life that doesn’t just look peaceful, after a while it actually feels that way too.

Designing a Life That Feels Light

As the season changes and the energy shifts, I’ve started thinking more about how we can design our lives so they hold us gently, not just for a season, but all year round. After reading the following essay: ‘Everything that turned out well in my life followed the same design process by Henrik Karlsson’, I was inspired to do a deep dive inventory in my own life and its surroundings.

That process began with simplification. It been about removing the unnecessary, streamlining what matters, and intentionally making space. For me, that means rethinking everything: my wardrobe, my work routines, the way I use my time and with who. It’s asking, over and over again: “How does this serve me?”

And being brave enough to let go of what doesn’t. Sometimes even being forced to.

But here’s the truth: it’s not a one-time fix. It’s a practice. Some days I still slip into urgency, distraction, doom scrolling, or often just overcommitting. But ‘slow living’ isn’t about making pancakes, picking oranges and making fresh juice every morning, or milking the cow and churning the butter… it’s not about perfection, it’s about noticing when you’ve drifted, and then choosing to return. Whatever that may look like for you. 

Letting the Island Be Our Teacher

Nature has its own rhythm, one that doesn’t follow the clock or the calendar. It’s the sound of waves pulling at the shore. It’s the wind telling you to slow down. It’s the long evenings that stretch out like open arms, reminding you there’s not always a reason to rush. Even when the shops are full and the roads are buzzing, we can still choose to live in sync with that quieter mental current. It takes awareness, patience, and discipline, all of which can even be a bit uncomfortable at times. 

A Gentle Invitation

If you’re feeling the shift of the season and the pull to speed up, let’s reflect. What is something in your daily life you find yourself rushing to complete? Do you often find your mind preoccupied with the next task, the next move? What’s a practice that helps bring you back? I mostly ask because I could use the advice myself! 

I suppose it's not about doing less. It’s about doing things with more care. More intention. More joy. What’s a moment you last caught yourself being completely there, absolutely present?

With gratitude,

Ellen
Luca Oliva Studio