Rediscovering Joy: How I Embraced Slow Living and Transformed My Life

My Winding Path to Transformation

In the whirlwind of my late 30s, I felt trapped in the chaotic rhythm of a demanding yet fulfilling career that left little room for anything else. I had traveled a long way— both geographically and personally— to get to this place, and now that I was here, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to stay.

Was this the result of everything I had worked so hard for?

The Backstory

Right as I was wrapping up my doctoral studies after 10 long years of secondary education, I stumbled upon my “dream job” at the ripe age of 29. In a series of synchronistic events that felt incredibly magical and miraculous, I left everything I knew in my home state of Virginia and set off on an adventure with my young daughter in tow, to the beautiful hills of western Massachusetts.

I worked in a beautiful fairy-tale setting– a small boarding school housed in a real-life(!) castle built in the 1890’s, perched on a quaint Main Street in a quintessential New England town. I pinched myself the first time I walked up to its heavy, oversized double doors, complete with gigantic door knockers.

Little did I know that I’d one day get married in this magical place (View from the back terrace of the castle)

When I’d step out onto the back stone terrace for a breath of fresh air, I was greeted with acres of luscious green fields and forest, blue skies, rolling hills, and birds circling high overhead. A large pond with a fountain in the middle graced the back lawn. Sometimes I’d spot a mama deer and her baby trotting through the backfield.

And when I needed a slightly longer break, I’d take a short stroll into town and grab a latte at one of the many small-town coffee shops a block away. My daughter and I were living the Gilmore Girls life. (Fun fact: my daughter actually met “Rory’s grandfather” at the local ice cream shop one summer!)

Our engagement photos with a great view of the castle: Fall 2012

It truly felt like a dream. Like God had lovingly plucked me out of The Familiar and transported me to this little-known spot to work my own “magic.” I was helping my dream clients (e.g., gifted adolescents, young adults, and their families) heal, grow up, restore relationships, and build fulfilling, meaningful, healthy lives.

The students teased that they lived at Hogwarts. It did kind of feel that way! They were bright, creative, interesting, and yes, at times challenging (in that adorable teenager kind of way)– and I was devoted to them like I was their very own Professor McGonagall.

Here I am in spring of 2019, standing in front of the castle, with my new puppy, Addie, as if I didn’t already have enough on my plate!

As whimsical and fairytale-like as it seemed in some respects, the actual day-to-day work was intense, emotional, and oftentimes exhausting. Family Weekends. Therapy groups. Emotional crises. Late-night calls.

And then as I stepped into more leadership: Supervising residential staff. Leading faculty. Directing clinical staff. Casting the vision and leading the whole dang show.

The list of responsibilities got longer and longer, but the time in my week did not.

And did I mention I was a single parent trying to do the best I could?

The constant hustle and unrelenting stress for nearly two decades eventually took a toll on my health, strained my relationships, and left me yearning for a different way of living. I was living in this peaceful, beautiful place (and honestly, my office was the most magnificent office I’d ever seen), but I was struggling to find the time and energy to savor it.

I was a parent to one daughter, yet I felt like I had a school full of children depending on me! 

At some point later in the journey, I got married and my husband and I were balancing our two intensive careers by opting to live and work in two different geographical locations (a 9-10 hour commute away) —leaving our marriage time to weekends only. And yes, I cried a lot.

It was in the midst of this overwhelming pace and completely unbalanced lifestyle that I grew to realize I needed to pivot– to embrace what is now being coined “slow living”—a philosophy that would become the cornerstone of my transformative journey.

Except at the time, if you told me to slow down, I wouldn’t even know how that was possible.

Slow Living…Say what?

I wish I could say I saw the signs early and made the healthy choice to make a change as soon as possible.

But it felt more like I hit a wall (or the wall hit me?), and I had no other choice BUT to leave the place I loved so I could save my life: my health, my marriage, my family, my joy.

By the time I fully realized how bad things were, years had passed. But I still felt like I needed to give a long runway for the school to hire an appropriate replacement, so in late 2018 I rallied and told myself, “I can do this for another 18 months”!

I don’t know what I was thinking.

By the following summer, I was running some meetings with my head lying on the table (seriously) because I was so fatigued and unwell, I could hardly—quite literally—hold my head up. And I wouldn’t allow myself days off. (I later was diagnosed with reactivated Epstein-Barr virus, among other things, which explained the crippling fatigue.)

One doctor after another would ask me the same question after running the tests and hearing the long list of symptoms: “Do you have a stressful job?”

At a certain point, I would just laugh. To say I had a stressful job was such an understatement. My whole life equaled stress. I couldn’t see how there was any way around it.

Looking back at how I just kept pushing myself, I think: “What was I trying to prove?” And to whom?

My health deteriorated and the stress got worse, so my runway got shortened and in the end, I pulled myself together to try to make it to the end of 2019. I crossed that finish line like an ultra-marathon runner who just completed the final stretch with no water.

Leaving behind my high-stress role, which I considered a calling and ministry, was a difficult decision (I cried many times and delayed for probably too long), but it marked the beginning of a profound shift. 

My First Steps towards a New Life

The first step was acknowledging that my well-being was paramount.

As a psychologist and educator, I had been teaching and encouraging my students and clients for many years to tend to their well-being. But by the end of my tenure as the headmaster, I had to acknowledge that I was struggling to practice what I preached.

My husband treated me to a special day at one of historic mansions in my first month off of work. I’m smiling but bone-tired. I was in the early stages of my multi-month unwinding and stress detox.

My desire to do whatever it took to help those around me conflicted with my own body’s physical needs for rest, peace, and a break from ongoing crises. 

I remember in the weeks leading up to my departure, some wise older women advised me:

“Give yourself a minimum of six months to rest.”

“Don’t even decide on your next step until you have had space away.”

I balked at the idea of taking six months off to rest and recover. I had no idea what on earth I would do with that time. However, unbeknownst to me (and the rest of the world), about 10 weeks after my lovely farewell party at the school, a global pandemic would shut down everything. 

It was like the universe was reinforcing what I already knew: “It’s time for a change.”

A BIG change.

The Prescription: Radical Self-Care

No longer bound by the chains of constant deadlines and unrelenting crises, I found time to focus on my health. Regular exercise, balanced meals, and luxurious amounts of sleep became non-negotiables, and I soon realized the transformative power of radical self-care. As I stepped into 2020, my health and well-being became my full-time job.

At the six-month mark, I remembered what those women said, and I realized they were 100% right. I could tell that I was just beginning to thaw. I was just beginning to come back to myself.

Whereas I once couldn’t imagine taking six months off, I ended up taking most of the entire year to focus on getting well.

(That’s not to say that I didn’t have a constant push-pull with myself that kept whispering: “Shouldn’t you be DOING more?!”)

A hiking trip in NC, March 2020, a few months after I left my job and right before the pandemic hit!

As the fog of stress and burnout lifted, I turned my attention to the relationships that had taken a backseat during my career pursuits. I rekindled connections with family and friends (even if at first that meant Zoom calls and “socially distanced” walks), investing time and effort into nurturing these bonds.

My husband and I decided to spend 3 whole months in my hometown of Virginia Beach so I could be near my aging grandmother, visit with my nephews, siblings, and old friends, and take daily walks on the oceanfront boardwalk. This felt like a big part of my inner healing and reclaiming ME.

The joy of shared laughter, deep conversations, and meaningful moments replaced the few-and-far-between interactions I'd grown accustomed to in my fast-paced, career-focused life. 

I remember thinking at some point: “Oh, I really like this version of me!”

And I’m pretty sure my husband said the same thing. Multiple times.

I felt relaxed. Strangers would literally stop me on the street and tell me I was glowing!

I remember being shocked every time.

After months of pure exhaustion and recuperation, I slowly started to feel like I was getting better. Getting back to myself. It felt amazing.

Tackling New Frontiers

Pivoting toward a new direction professionally was both exhilarating and daunting. With the luxury of time and the newfound sense of purpose slow living had granted me, I delved into my passions and discovered avenues that aligned with my values.

I found myself gardening. I experimented with healthy recipes– something I loved to do but always felt too rushed to actually enjoy doing. My creative juices began to return.

It was like my brain started opening up again with ideas, dreams, and passions I had put on the back burner.

While it was fun to notice all the new ideas bubbling up, I also had to navigate the feelings of uncertainty and, honestly, the fear of getting myself back in the same old trap I had gotten myself into!

It took several years, working part-time in my coaching practice, to settle into a deeper trust with myself.

One day, something shifted and I could finally own the truth:

I have the authority over how my life looks and feels from this day forward. I do not need to be a victim (of my own making) feeling pressured to work more, harder, and longer– burning myself out over and over again.

I remember promising my little girl self, with tears streaming down my face: "I’ll never betray you ever again.”

I meant it.

And what I meant by that was— I’ll never choose to stop listening to what you really need.

I also recognized that I was in a different situation now:

I had a husband with a stable job, and we made a choice not to depend on any income I brought in (at least for that particular season when I was focused on my healing). That decision, while it meant we slashed our household income nearly in half, allowed me great freedom to take the time I needed to heal on a deep level and move forward. I realize this is a huge privilege not everyone has and certainly not one I had for most of my adult life as a young single mom.

Mindful Living & Sinking In

Summer of 2020, hanging in my kitchen— relaxed and happy.

One of the most beautiful aspects of slow living is its emphasis on mindfulness.

Though I practiced (and taught!) mindfulness for well over a decade before leaving my job, it was a generous gift to myself to have more space in my schedule to savor life's simple pleasures—a sunrise painting the sky with hues of gold, the aroma of a freshly brewed cup of coffee, the joy of seeing my dog run free in the backyard.

These moments, once easily overlooked, became anchors in my day, reminding me to stay present and grateful.

Creating space for slow living didn't just benefit me; it radiated positivity throughout my surroundings.

My family and friends began to see the “real me” come back; it was as if the literal life force re-entered my veins.

My exhaustion, adrenal fatigue, and blunted emotions gave way to energy, vitality, and deep joy. I had me again. And I loved every part of her.

Here I am getting back to play: taking a floral workshop (hosted by my own sister), spending time with other women creating beauty

In this slower, more intentional existence, I discovered the profound beauty of embracing life as it unfolds.

The planner in me (yes, I always had a 5-10 year plan) had to let it all go– I wasn’t going to know what came next. I didn’t know – I still don’t fully know – and that’s ok. Practicing slow living, for me, was not just about slowing down.

It was about sinking deeper. Sinking into more faith, more trust, more expansiveness.

I also learned it's not about the quantity of experiences, but the quality of moments that truly matter.

I no longer base my value or worth on titles, how booked my calendar is, how “needed” I am, or how much money is coming into my bank account. It’s FREEDOM.

I’m choosing to work in a way that allows me to, above all, prioritize my health and relationships. I purposefully keep a lot of white space in my calendar. I schedule in time to have quiet times for prayer and meditation, exercise, and nutritious meals before most other things. I schedule time for play and wonder.

My healing tea of choice: a homemade matcha latte

I choose to spend time with people and on activities that truly bring me peace and joy; and I’m continually learning how to graciously say no to those things that do not.

When an opportunity presents itself, I ask myself the question: “Does this light me up?”

And if it doesn’t, I need to be convinced there’s a greater purpose that I can align with in order for me to give a wholehearted “YES”!

Slow living has granted me the time to explore my hobbies once again, immerse myself in books, embark on leisurely strolls, and simply be. It's an ongoing journey—one where I continually learn to release the need for constant productivity and appreciate the ebb and flow of life.

As I reflect on this transformative journey, I'm filled with gratitude for the courage it took to step off the fast track and embark on a path that resonated with my heart.

I’m proud of myself for listening to that still, small voice inside that nudged me toward this path and encouraged me to stay on it even when I was fighting and screaming.

What Slow Living Has Taught Me

Slow living has taught me that life is too precious to rush through, and that the moments of breathing, connecting, and savoring are the threads that weave the tapestry of a truly meaningful existence.

It’s not that I didn’t know these things before. Like I said, I taught and certainly practiced a lot of it. But there was a tipping point when the stresses and responsiblities I encountered outweighed the resources (emotional, financial, energetic, time) I had to hold it all.

If you know you need to make a similar shift in your life, I encourage you to take small steps.

Be kind to yourself.

Slow living is about finding balance, letting go of what no longer serves us, and creating space for what brings us joy and fulfillment. You deserve to live a mindful, intentional, and fulfilling life, and slow living can help you get there.

For me, it started by carving out enough time to reflect on what wasn’t working anymore so I could come up with a strategy to change.

I had to give myself some time and space to let my imagination dream again. To hold out new possibilities even if they seemed completely impossible to me at the time.

I now look back at those dreams. The wishful thinking of waking up peacefully and fully rested. The vision of having time and energy to invest in my closest relationships. The dream of a healthy, vibrant physical body. The BIG hope that one day I could do satisfying work, using my gifts, while also having time and location freedom.

All of those things are what I wake up to every day now. The “impossible” has become possible. It didn’t happen overnight and it wasn’t necessarily easy to make the shift, but in retrospect, I don’t know why it felt so impossible.

Sometimes it just feels impossible because we haven’t experienced it any other way.

Sometimes we have to trust our inner wisdom and the wisdom and experience of those around us who can show us: there’s a different way.

If you would like a supportive guide on your journey of reclaiming your well-being–someone who understands ALL the feelings, all the ups and downs along the way– I’d be happy to speak with you about ways I may be able to help.

You can schedule a complimentary Life Strategy call here.