This week, I was DMing with a friend in response to an Instagram Story I had shared about how, for what feels like the first time in a long while, I’m genuinely content with where I am in life. We got to chatting about how sometimes, being content in your personal life can come at the cost of professional ambition or thriving in your career. I’d say for me right now, that rings pretty true: I’ve written before about my waning ambition. Whereas I used to go after the most plum projects and work nonstop, I’ve slowed my roll a bit, especially after becoming a mom. Motherhood was a forcing function for me to take up a slower pace—one that, in hindsight, I think I desperately needed.

Slowing down in this fast-paced world that asks so much of us feels like an act of innocent rebellion—something Rachel Schwartzmann beautifully explores in her new book, Slowing. Slowing down is also a constant work in progress for me, in so many areas of my life! Reading Rachel’s book was a beautiful reminder that the concept of “slow living” can show up in many different ways. It got me thinking about how I’m embracing “slow” in my life, and the personal habits and lifestyle changes that have helped me cultivate a slower, more intentional pace.

In the Q&A in today’s issue, Rachel and I chat about the inspiration behind her book Slowing, how to redefine success in a creative life, navigating anxiety and friendship, and the joy of embracing slow storytelling.

1. Creating small rituals in daily routines. I’ve started rising just a bit earlier (usually that means like...6:00am) to enjoy the peace and quiet and to organize my thoughts and my day before our daughter wakes up. An unexpected benefit has been feeling more present, both for myself and my family vs. feeling rushed and stressed. For example, just yesterday morning, I made French toast for all of us. It was such a happy moment, standing in the kitchen with my husband and laughing as Lily enthusiastically stuffed her face with the French toast strips! I’d love to make this at least a weekly thing for us. Even carving out just 15 minutes each morning for yourself—whether it’s enjoying a quiet cup of coffee or doing a quick journal entry—can be truly transformative.

2. Rediscovering reading as an act of self-care. I’ve rediscovered the joy of reading, especially during lunch breaks and before bed—it’s become my favorite way to slow down. One trick that’s worked surprisingly well for me is setting a quick timer on my Apple Watch (usually 20 or 30 minutes) for a reading break. I’m always amazed at how much I can read in that time and how quieted my mind feels afterward. There’s something about using a timer that helps me see reading not as a time suck, but as a well-deserved pause (lol, we millennials have a weird guilt about taking breaks from work!)

3. Taking a pause on new wardrobe additions. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I hit an all-time peak of purchases in June, with packages arriving endlessly. When I looked back on my spending in September (side note: we’ve switched to a new budgeting app after Mint shut down, and we’re really liking it!), I was pleasantly surprised to see that I made…zero clothing purchases for myself last month. This wasn’t intentional but I gotta say, it’s been nice to take a breather and wear the things I already own (granted, I did acquire a lot more in the past few months, so there’s that…).
   

   To still enjoy that “dopamine hit” of trying something new (because I’m only human!), I resubscribed to Nuuly and rented a dress from Rent the Runway for our upcoming anniversary. I’m curious how long I’ll stick with my slow-down of purchases, but right now, I love where I’m at and feel really good about this approach. (As a bonus, it’s allowed me to instead invest in other areas I value, like a skincare treatment that’s more tied to my mental health and well-being than anything else, and new experiences—like grabbing tickets to a basketball game—with my spouse.)

4. Setting boundaries with technology. I’ve been spending way less time on social media lately—and as a result, my mind has slowed down, too. Instagram and TikTok used to make my brain race every time I’d open the apps and scroll endlessly. I’m grateful that the nature of my job allows me to step away when I need to for my mental health.
   

   To keep myself in check, I set timers on my Apple Watch—10 minutes, 15 minutes—and that helps me feel like I have control over how much time I’m spending. For me, it’s not about limiting the time itself but about knowing that I’m not unknowingly wasting an entire day on Instagram. I actually want to browse IG—it’s fun, and I love connecting with people and finding inspiration! But having that structure makes me feel more intentional about it and gives me control over my time.

5. I’m seeking out fulfillment and enrichment beyond work. This fall, I’ve decided to challenge myself this fall to find creative fulfillment outside of work. I’ve been toying with the idea of joining a writing group, getting back into gardening, or finally tackling some interior design projects *for me* (like actually furnishing and decorating my office!). If you’ve been craving more soul-nourishing activities, I encourage you to think of one non-work-related project to pursue this season.

🐌 Slowing down doesn’t have to be about grand gestures—it can be the little changes where we find the most meaning. What are some ways you’re slowing down this season, or how would you like to? Let’s chat about it—I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Leave a comment

Rachel Schwartzmann is the author of Slowing and the writer/host of Slow Stories—a multimedia project that explores living, working, and creating more intentionally in our digital age. She also writes about books, creativity, design, and fashion, and her essays and interviews have appeared in BOMB Magazine, Coveteur, Literary Hub, TOAST Magazine, and elsewhere.

Hi, Rachel! Your new book, Slowing, focuses on the concept of slow living. Can you share what initially inspired you to embrace this lifestyle—and write this book?

I arrived at this point after an intense period of professional burnout. I was years into running a style Tumblr blog turned content business, and ultimately moving in service of a cultural narrative that glamorized work and hustle culture—and one that didn’t necessarily suit my nature or desires. I also missed what I had initially set out to pursue: writing. I think just as much as I’m interested in slow living, I’m interested in slow storytelling. Reflecting on our stories, reimagining the narratives instilled in us, and writing/discovering new ones can shift our relationship with time and pace.

I decided to close that business right before the pandemic and focus on a project I had soft launched called Slow Stories—which began as a podcast and now encompasses a newsletter. It initially focused more on the slow content movement (which, similar to slow living/fashion/food, prizes quality over quantity, mindful consumption, intentional creation, and so on) and slowness in the digital age, but I realized I wanted to expand the scope. That ultimately led to more nuanced conversations about time, creativity, and pace.

This was also happening in tandem with finding my footing again as a writer and reader in adulthood, so a book felt like the next natural progression! With Slowing, I wanted to go deeper into slowness and storytelling. I structured the book into three core sections: Beginning, Middle, and End—every (slow) story and life is made up of these—and wrote towards that framework as a way to unpack what those chapters look and feel like. I also interviewed my subjects about how they defined (or wanted to reimagine) these moments.

How has slow living influenced your creativity and the way you approach your work? (And maybe even how you approached writing this book?)

It’s helped me to focus on how things feel rather than how they look. That, in turn, has given me more confidence to step into my identity as a writer and creative person overall. Obviously, I’m human, and I do want to make work that inspires connection and resonates with people, but it’s coming from a deeply personal place. For me, so much of slow living is synonymous with self-awareness: At this point in my life, I’m aware of who I am, how I want to grow, and what I want to do. I ask questions, but I don’t ask for permission when it comes to following my curiosities, trying things, and changing my mind—and life.

You often showcase your beautiful space and personal style on social media. Who or what are your biggest influences as far as design and style go?

I happen to know and interact with a lot of inherently creative and stylish people, and their authenticity is always so inspiring. Though my professional world doesn’t center around fashion anymore, I still love to discover—and champion—thoughtful designers/makers (like babaà for apparel and Virginia Sin—who is featured in Slowing! — for interiors). Then, of course, living in New York, there is no shortage of tangible inspiration in style, the arts, architecture, food… the list goes on.

babaa | virginia sin

I resonated so much with your experience of being a shy person who is easily overwhelmed. In the book, you talk about how that has impacted your sense of community and friendships. I related to your experience of having friends over and panicking a little at first! What has helped you push through in these moments? I've recently tried to say "yes" to most hang-out requests, though it's a little outside of my comfort zone (my comfort zone is my home, lol). I've found that although I feel so much anxiety prior to a gathering with one or more friends, I most often feel better after the fact.

It’s something I’ve really had to accept within myself first, particularly the anxiety piece. The story you referenced was written at an especially volatile time in terms of my mental health and relationship with anxiety. I feel fortunate to be in a much better place these days when it comes to those things—and “pushing through” and saying yes.

The biggest thing that’s helped me is to simply own the fact that I am quiet and I do have anxiety. Unlearning the stigma attached to these qualities has been a slow but necessary process, and the more I verbalize it, the more it nourishes my friendships. That’s not to say I share every detail or cross a personal boundary, but so often, people are going through or have endured similar experiences, and I try to treat these things as a point of connection rather than retreating into them and away from others. (To your point, home is definitely my comfort zone, too, but I completely agree that I feel better once I’m able to cross the threshold!)

In the book you write that "I now know that it's enough to slow down and even settle down, but I shouldn't settle for less: experience, discovery, truth." I resonated so much with this essay as I've struggled with equating my current chapter of slowing down — especially career-wise — with "settling down." How do you combat the feeling of settling down?

I’m so glad it spoke to you. It’s interesting to revisit these stories again with some distance.

I think a phrase like “settle down” is often seen as a cause for concern—that we’re giving some essential part of ourselves up. With experience, I’ve learned not to feel burdened by the idea that I may want (or need) to settle into a comfortable routine for a while—and I’m a creature of habit, so certain routines mean a lot to me!—because I can always change my mind. It’s just a matter of remembering that reemerging again may take time, and the path out might not look like what we originally hoped for or imagined. That’s what keeps it interesting (to me, anyway). 🙂

Practically speaking, how do you make space in your life for creativity? This is something I am struggling with and trying to untangle... What does it mean for me to feel creatively fulfilled, and how do I make space for it, either daily or weekly?

I’m fortunate to have cultivated a creative life since childhood. I was always encouraged to pursue my interests (both personally and professionally), and that’s given me the confidence to prioritize creativity at every stage—a privilege I don’t take for granted. But I think I would have embraced it regardless. It’s just been so inherent to me, especially as a quiet person, to express myself through creative means.

Most notably, I’ve given up the notion of what “success” is supposed to look like in a creative context in order to let myself truly play and take risks. And when you said fulfilled, I remembered something the artist Allison Strickland (who I interviewed for Slowing) mentioned in the book: “You cannot only inhale; you have to exhale, too. There are times when you have to research and do absolutely nothing. We’re not meant to create constantly. …  What does the process of success feel like? Success is not necessarily a crescendo—it’s a practice.” I think that’s so true. 

Thinking about creative success or fulfillment as something to work with, not just toward, can be challenging to wrap your head around, but it’s worth it.

1. To read: I can’t stop recommending The Anthropologists by Aysegül Savas. It’s one of my favorite new releases of the year and elegantly explores home, relationships, and daily life.

2. To watch: The HBO adaptation of My Brilliant Friend is striking. It makes me want to re-read all of Elena Ferrante’s work. —Rachel

🔗 You can follow Rachel on Instagram at @rachelschwartzmann and you can purchase your copy of SLOWING at any of the links here. Rachel is also speaking at P&T Knitwear in New York on 10/21!

👋 Thanks for reading today’s interview with Rachel! See you on Friday for the weekly recs roundup. x Alisha