Digital Shabbos: The Slow Down

 

 

I've been staying on the coast for the past few weeks. I needed a reset. 

Most people don't even know where I am.

Just me, my pup, my laptop to work remotely, and everything the coast has to offer.

I know how fortunate I am to have the freedom to pick up and go.

Nothing makes me happier than falling asleep with the windows open, the cool ocean breeze drifting through the house, listening to the steady rhythm of the waves. It's the sound I grew up with, and no matter where life takes me, it always feels like coming home.

My days have become wonderfully simple.

Long walks on the beach, collecting smooth stones and pieces of driftwood.

Cooking every meal from scratch.

Sipping my morning coffee on the deck overlooking the water.

Watching the sky change colors each evening as the sun slips below the horizon.

Every so often, a whale surfaces in the distance. More often, curious little seals pop their heads above the water before quietly disappearing again.

It's funny how quickly life begins to feel different when you spend most of your time outside.

Fresh air is wildly underrated.

I'm in the middle of a season that feels equal parts possibility and uncertainty. There are decisions to make, places to go, and more than a few unanswered questions. But for now, none of that feels quite as urgent as it once did.

Even though this isn't my home, I find myself honoring the same small rituals I always do.

Making the bed each morning.

Lighting candles in the evening.

Cooking nourishing meals.

Taking care of my skin, my body, and my mind.

Making the space around me feel beautiful, even if it's only temporary.

Perhaps it's found in the rituals we carry with us.

The familiar habits that ground us.

The places that allow us to hear our own thoughts.

For now, that's enough.

I found these beautiful stones on one of my beach walks. Their natural openings made the perfect candle holders. If you'd like to recreate the look, you can shop the white mini taper candles here.