A Reflection on Slowing Down and Listening In

Harvest Love Journal

There was a time when I lived in a constant hum of motion—go, go, go. I wore it like armor. If I could just keep moving fast enough, maybe I wouldn’t have to hear the anxiety creeping in through the cracks. Maybe I could outrun the noise, the pressure, the ache of not feeling quite right.

But it never worked. The more I moved from survival instead of trust, the more disconnected I felt.

I made decisions from the surface—rushed, scattered, disconnected. At the time, they felt like urgency, like survival. But looking back, I see what was missing: the pause. The listening. The grounded self.

It wasn’t until I slowed down—truly slowed down—that I began to hear something different. At first, it was soft. A whisper from my body. A quiet ache or knowing in my chest. It didn’t always speak in words. Sometimes it came through breath, stillness, a pull to nature, or the way my shoulders dropped in yoga.

Over time, I began to understand: my body and soul had been speaking all along. I just hadn’t known the language.

Now, I feel most clear and emotionally grounded when I’m with myself—in nature, in movement, in stillness, in the presence of those who feel like home. That’s when the real answers come—not through rushing or reacting, but through trust and time.

But here’s what I’ve also learned:
It’s not always about pausing.
Sometimes, your body calls you to move, speak, leap, express, dance, scream, rest, cry, or create.

The key is not whether you’re still or moving—but why.

The truest guidance doesn’t leave you tangled in shame, regret, or guilt.
It leaves you softer. Clearer. Lighter.
You know it was the right voice when, after you follow it, you feel more you.

If I could sit across from you right now, I would say this:
“Let the waves move through you. Don’t fear them. Listen to what they’re trying to say. And when the next step calls—whether it's stillness or motion—trust the voice that leaves you feeling light, not burdened.”

It’s okay to pause. It’s okay to act.
You are not falling behind.
You’re listening.
You’re becoming.
You’re remembering your way home.

With Love, Ilda