Notes on stillness, stories, and finding beauty in the ordinary.
We tend to imagine that lives are shaped by decisions — the big ones, the visible ones, the moments we can point to and explain later. But more often than not, it’s the quieter things that do the shaping. Small habits. Repeated gestures. Ways of moving through…
We tend to imagine that lives are shaped by decisions — the big ones, the visible ones, the moments we can point to and explain later. But more often than not, it’s the quieter things that do the shaping. Small habits. Repeated gestures. Ways of moving through…
I’ve learned that most plants don’t fail because we don’t care enough. They fail because we care too much, too many rules, too many instructions, too much second-guessing. Indoor herbs, in particular, seem to attract advice. Exact hours of sunlight.…
I’ve learned that most plants don’t fail because we don’t care enough. They fail because we care too much, too many rules, too many instructions, too much second-guessing. Indoor herbs, in particular, seem to attract advice. Exact hours of sunlight.…
There is a particular kind of disappointment that creeps in when days don’t announce themselves. No milestones, no dramatic turns, no visible progress. Just a stretch of time that passes quietly, almost apologetically, as if it hasn’t earned the right to be…
There is a particular kind of disappointment that creeps in when days don’t announce themselves. No milestones, no dramatic turns, no visible progress. Just a stretch of time that passes quietly, almost apologetically, as if it hasn’t earned the right to be…
A small shift, but it changes the whole room.
From home:
the-quiet-life.com/2025/10/26/k...
A small shift, but it changes the whole room.
From home:
the-quiet-life.com/2025/10/26/k...
From home:
the-quiet-life.com/2025/10/23/t...
From home:
the-quiet-life.com/2025/10/23/t...
From my kitchen: the-quiet-life.com/2025/10/28/t...
From my kitchen: the-quiet-life.com/2025/10/28/t...
She’s not wrong — the day needed slowing down anyway.
She’s not wrong — the day needed slowing down anyway.
I’m wandering into Bluesky, curious, unhurried, and not quite sure where to sit.
I’m wandering into Bluesky, curious, unhurried, and not quite sure where to sit.
I write about quiet days, small joys, and life with Jolene, our rescue dog.
Finding a slower rhythm, one story at a time.
I write about quiet days, small joys, and life with Jolene, our rescue dog.
Finding a slower rhythm, one story at a time.