My immediate thought was… how would that even work? Does everyone just get whatever they want? Does everyone suddenly have a mansion and a yacht? Who gets the beautiful house that overlooks the ocean when there are only so many houses overlooking the ocean?

The more I thought about it, the more fascinating the ideas became. Because underneath all the talk about AI and robots is a much bigger question:

What would our lives look like if we didn’t have to spend so much of it earning money?

Why would money stop mattering?

The idea is actually pretty simple. So much of what we pay for today is expensive because human time and labor are limited. Someone has to build the house, has to grow and harvest food, clean the hotel room, answer the email, etc.

Now imagine AI becoming capable of doing a huge percentage of our intellectual work while capable robots do the physical work. Robots can manufacture, build, farm, transport, clean, cook, etc.

Suddenly, producing the things humans need would require less human labor. Dramatically less.

That’s the world Musk is talking about when he predicts that work could eventually become optional and money would be far less relevant. We potentially become capable of producing so much, so cheaply, that many things we consider expensive became incredibly abundant.

And that sounds wonderful, right?

But heres where the whole idea gets complicated. Even if robots could build a yacht incredibly cheap, there are still limited materials, dock space, and coastline.

There are some things technology can make more abundant, and there are also things that will probably always be scarce. Land might be the best example.

AI can generate a picture of a beautiful ten acre property overlooking the ocean in two seconds, it cannot generate another ten acres of actual Earth.

Maybe the future isn’t that everyone owns everything. Maybe it’s that almost everyone has access to a standard of living that we would consider very wealthy today. And maybe ownership itself becomes less important.

You might not own a yacht. But perhaps you can request one for a week when you want to sail around Greece. You might not own five cars, because autonomous transportation is available whenever you need it.

If so, having access to an extraordinary life doesn’t require possessing a large amounts of stuff.

The part that no one can predict:

The transition. I can imagine the beautiful version on the other side. What scares me more is the space between here and there.

What happens when AI becomes capable of replacing a large amount of human work, but our society still operates how it does now? Your rent sill needs to be paid, groceries and health insurance still cost money, and land is still expensive.

The job you spend years building isn’t as valuable because AI can do a large percentage of it.

That’s where this gets much more complicated than simply saying AI and robots will do it all while we relax.

Who owns the robots? Who owns the companies producing all of this abundance? How do ordinary people participate in the wealth created by AI if their labor is no longer needed? Does some form of universal income emerge? Do people work fewer hours or do new jobs appear?

I don’t think anyone actually knows. And I certainly won’t stop saving because Musks says money might not matter someday.

Truthfully, I can’t stop thinking about what could be on the other side of this.

My dream life is actually very simple. I don’t picture a luxury life. I picture land, a home, a garden I have time to tend to, slow mornings with my family, traveling the world, making things because I enjoy it, reading, cooking, having friends over, and being present for my children instead on constantly thinking about what I need to get done.

I realized something while thinking about this futuristic world:

If money stopped being the organizing principle of my life, I would probably live a very old-fashioned one.

When we imagine AI, we picture something very technological. Humanoid robots, self driving cars, virtual reality, and machines everywhere.

But, what if all of that technology eventually allows us to spend less of our lives focused on technology? What if a robot doing the laundry means I get another hour outside with my children? What if AI doing administrative work means you get to close your laptop at noon and go to the garden?

What if the end result of this futuristic technology is something surprisingly human?

Gardening, cooking, raising children, making art, learning because we are curious, traveling, resting, creating.

Maybe AI doesn’t lead us toward a faster life but maybe it gives us permission to have a slower one.

I’m not interested in trying to predict whether Elon Musk is right about this timeline or if it will happen at all. I am more interested in this question:

If you never had to earn another dollar, what would you actually do with your life?

Really think about. Once you got past the initial vacations and purchases, what would an ordinary Tuesday look like?

I’d wake up slowly and make breakfast. I’d eat with my family and spend time in the garden. I would work on something creative because I wanted to, not because I needed to. I’d plan a trip and enjoy dinner outside while the sun goes down.

Perhaps thats the most interesting part of this entire conversation. We don’t actually have to wait and see whether robots create some utopia to learn something from it.

Because honestly, if you know what you would do with your life if money didn’t matter, you’ve also learned something pretty important about what matters to you right now.

We probably can’t quit our jobs tomorrow, or buy the land yet. But we can start building tiny pieces of that imaginary Tuesday into the Tuesday we already have.

So go plant something, make a yummy dinner, put your phone down, and sit outside with the ones you love. Because the goal was never really to have unlimited money, it was to have enough freedom to actually experience our lives.

P.S. this is the kind of conversation I usually have for my paid subs. Deeper thoughts that make you stop and look at life a little differently. Four times a month we gather on the porch and stay way longer than we planned to. If you liked this one, there’s a lot more waiting for you on the paid side of The Sunday Porch.

As always, thanks for reading! I’ll see ya soon.

- SJ

No seriously, look back at your life. It did always work out. Maybe not always in the way you wanted it to, or expected it to, but it did work out.

So far, you’ve always figured it out. You’ve always found another way or kept moving forward.

And yet, somehow our brains still try to convince us that this time is different. So we stress, like we always do.

So why do we spend so much time stressing over things that have not happened yet? Turns out, there is actually a reason our brains do this. And no, it’s not to annoy us and drive us crazy.

Our brains were not build to make us happy. They were built to keep us alive.

For most of human history, being overly cautious was essential for survival. If our ancestors heard something in the bushes, the brain would signal danger. Back then, that was important and kept them alive.

Today, our brains still have that same powerful system for anticipating threats. Except we are not listening for predators or trying to find clean drinking water. We are worrying about someone texting us back, the bills that need to be paid, or some crazy imaginary future we created while lying in bed.

So, that is one reason we can experience very real stress to things that don’t exist yet. Our brains are very good at imagining the future. But, not only does it imagine things we are excited about, it also loves to imagine what could go wrong.

Anxiety is our brains trying to protect us from a future it created. Anxiety itself it not useless or outdated. We do still need it to recognize danger, plan, prepare or avoid risks. The system is useful but the problem is it can become activated by possibilities as though they are realities.

Sure, it’s comforting to know our brains are just trying to protect us. But, that doesn’t make your 2 am spiral disappear. So the question becomes: how do we live with a brain that keeps trying to protect us from things that have not happened yet or may never happen?

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Hi friends, and happy Sunday.

I’m writing this from the couch, three weeks postpartum, hair in a claw clip, watered down coffee beside me. Lennon is asleep on my chest as I type this one handed, because that is just how things get done now.

Lennie is, by every measure, an easy baby. She sleeps well, she eats well, she is genuinely so chill it almost feels like cheating. So this isn’t about “surviving the newborn trenches.” Because even with an easy baby, I am not the same person who walked into that hospital three weeks ago. Not even close.

It’s not just motherhood either. When I look around at my whole life right now, everything seems to be shifting at once. My work, my identity, what I want my days to look like, who I’m becoming. It’s like I stepped into one big change and it rippled into every single room of my life. Nothing is dramatic or falling apart. It’s just all quietly, persistently different.

And I won’t lie, that’s scary. Not knowing what my career looks like a year from now, or what kind of mother I’ll be once the fog lifts, or who I am underneath all these new titles. But underneath the scary part, there’s something steadier too. A sense that I’m held. That I don’t have to see the whole path to trust it’s there.

Something in me knows where I’m going, even though I can’t see anything yet. So that’s what I’m practicing this season. Not forcing clarity, just leaning in. Learning this new me as she reveals herself, one ordinary Sunday at a time.

If that is the part of the letter that stays with you, the part that feels like sitting on the porch with someone who really sees you, that's exactly what's waiting for you as a paid subscriber. Four more letters land in your inbox each month, and they're not more recipes or style guides, they're more of this. Deep, heartfelt, the kind of writing that shifts something in you. Come sit a while longer.

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We all know the necklace of the summer is the Anthropologie beaded necklace, and I am absolutely obsessed with it. But instead of buying one, we’re going to DIY it ourselves. Make it meaningful, make it special, and have so much fun doing it.

Something you’ll learn about me around here is that I’m always looking for ways to put my phone down and use my hands to create something instead. Especially in this newborn baby bubble I’m in right now. Coming back to small little crafts and projects like this brings me so much happiness and connects me back to myself, even on the days that feel like a blur.

So here’s what you need to make your own: Shopping List

String whatever colors feel good to you, add a simple gold clasp, and just like that you have your own version for a fraction of the price.

If you need me this summer, I am probably standing at the counter eating this corn salad straight out of the bowl. It’s become my go to easy side, quick snack, whatever the moment calls for kind of dish, and it could not be more simple.

Corn off the cob, cherry tomatoes (best if they’re fresh from the garden, obviously), red onion, cilantro, avocado, and a little jalapeno for kick. That’s it. Toss it together and you’ve got something fresh, summery, and genuinely craveable.

Pile it on top of bbq chicken for dinner, scoop it up with corn chips as a snack, or just eat it straight out of the bowl with a fork, no judgment here. It’s one of those recipes that tastes like summer in a single bite.

This week I’m all in on St. George USA, because if there was ever a season for effortless, throw it on and go pieces, it’s this one. Their whole vibe is that classic American coastal thing, crisp whites, navy stripes, linen dresses that look put together even when you did zero effort to get there. Basically my postpartum uniform dreams.

Here’s what I love, so many of their pieces are true, one hundred percent linen, and the price tags still feel like such a steal. Most of their dresses land in that thirty five to fifty five dollar range, which for real linen quality is honestly hard to beat.

They’re loose enough to be comfortable, breathable enough for summer, and easy enough that I can nurse or just exist without thinking twice. Pair with sandals and you’re done. No decision fatigue required, which is the only kind of getting dressed I can handle these days. Heres whats on my wish list!

If you haven’t read The Five Star Weekend by Elin Hilderbrand yet, consider this your sign. It’s the ultimate five star beach read, messy friendships, Nantucket summer, secrets spilling out over rosé, and just enough drama to keep you up past your bedtime.

And here’s the fun part, it just came to life. The book was adapted into a Peacock series that dropped this month, with an absolutely stacked cast bringing Hollis and her crew to the screen. Read the book first if you can, then watch it unfold all over again, this time with a glass of wine and your own girls group chat blowing up in real time.

Everything out here is finally doing what I dreamed it would back in early spring. The tomatoes are taking off, the roses are bursting into every shade of pink and orange, and I cannot walk past the garden without stopping to just stand there and look at it for a minute. There’s something so satisfying about watching a little patch of dirt turn into an actual living, blooming thing.

But with this heat wave rolling through, everything out there needs a little extra love right now. A few things I’m doing to keep the garden happy:

Water early. I’m out there first thing in the morning before it gets brutal, so the roots can actually soak it in before the sun evaporates it all.

Mulch, mulch, mulch. It holds in moisture and keeps those roots cooler, which makes a bigger difference than you’d think.

Skip the midday water. Watering in full sun can actually scorch the leaves, so I save any extra watering for early morning or evening.

Give it some shade if you can. A little afternoon shade cloth or even a strategically placed umbrella can save your more delicate plants from wilting.

Harvest often. The more you pick, the more the plant wants to produce, so don’t let those tomatoes and zucchini sit too long once they’re ready.

A thriving garden in the middle of a heat wave feels like its own little metaphor honestly. Sometimes the most beautiful growth happens right in the middle of the hardest conditions.

So that’s where I’m at this Sunday. Three weeks into this new chapter, hands busy with beads and corn salad and garden dirt, heart still learning how to hold all of this change with a little more grace each day.

I don’t have it figured out. I’m not sure I’m supposed to. But between the crafting and the cooking and watching those roses push through the heat to bloom anyway, I keep getting the same quiet reminder. Growth doesn’t need perfect conditions. It just needs a little faith and a willingness to keep showing up.

Something in me still knows where I’m going. I can’t see it yet, but I can feel it, and this Sunday, that’s more than enough.

Until next week, friends.

Nobody warns you about this part. They tell you about the sleep, the feeding, the healing. Nobody tells you that you’ll catch your reflection one day and feel like you’re looking at someone you used to know.

So this is me, mid-week, being honest with you about it. And more than that, this is me telling you exactly what I’m doing, every single day, to stay connected to myself while I find my way back. The small stuff. The stuff nobody puts on a checklist because it sounds too tiny to matter. It matters.

This isn’t actually the first time I’ve lost my sparkle. It won’t be the last time yours dims either, whatever’s causing it for you right now.

So whether you’re postpartum too or just feeling like your sparkle has dimmed, I’m getting into the full list. The daily non-negotiables, the mindset shift that changed everything for me, and the one question I ask myself every single night that’s done more for my sparkle than anything else on this list.

Because a choice, however small, is proof you’re still steering.

Why subscribe to The Sunday Porch?

✨You’ll receive four extra letters a month, straight from my porch to yours. Think of them like a note from your favorite person, the one who always tells you the truth, makes you laugh, and somehow leaves you feeling lighter than when you sat down. Some letters carry a mindset shift that changes how you move through your whole month. Others hold a little ritual to get you through a hard week, or a piece of wisdom I’ve been sitting with myself. Every single one is written with you in mind, like I’m pouring us both a cup of coffee and settling in for a real conversation. Come sit with me! 💛

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The Slow Living Lane has had a glow up. We are now The Sunday Porch, and honestly it just felt more like us. Same warm corner of the internet, same weekly reset, just a name that finally matches the feeling. Pull up a chair. You belong here.

There’s a quote I keep coming back to lately: the secret to happiness isn’t having everything you want, it’s wanting what you already have. But I’d add something to that. I think a big part of being truly happy is simply having something to be excited about.

Not in a big, life-altering way. Not a promotion or a vacation or some milestone you’ve been chasing for years. Just... something small and yours. Something that makes you want to get out of bed a little easier in the morning.

For me right now, it’s my matcha. I know that sounds simple, but hear me out. Every morning I go through this little ritual of making it (this is the kit i use) and it genuinely feels like a gift I give myself before the day asks anything of me. Then I take it outside to my back deck, sit in whatever quiet I can find, do a short meditation, and write down a few things I’m grateful for. The whole thing might take twenty minutes. But those twenty minutes make me feel like a person who has her life together, even when I absolutely do not.

That’s the thing about excitement, it doesn’t have to be grand. It can be the mug you look forward to every morning. The plan you made with a friend two weeks from now that keeps popping into your head. The little weekend getaway you and your partner are loosely scheming. A new candle. A really good book on your nightstand. A farmers market you’ve been meaning to go to.

Small things strung together make a life that feels alive.

So this week, I want to ask you something: what are you excited about right now? If the answer feels foggy or far away, that’s okay — and honestly, that might be your sign. Make a plan. Text a friend. Order the thing. Book the trip, even if it’s just one night two towns over. Give yourself something to look forward to, because you deserve to move through your days with a little shimmer of anticipation underneath everything.

That’s what this newsletter is, in a way. Your Sunday something-to-look-forward-to.

One of my favorite things to talk about in this space is finding hobbies that actually pull you away from your phone. Pressed flowers is one of those hobbies.

And the best part? It starts outside. Take a walk around your neighborhood and just look at what is growing. Clover, wildflowers, lavender, small roses, interesting leaves along the sidewalk. If you want a bigger variety, swing by your local farmers market and grab a small bundle for a few dollars. The errand itself becomes the outing, which becomes the point.

Once you are home, place your flowers between two sheets of parchment paper and tuck them inside the heaviest book you own. Stack a few more books on top and then leave them alone for two to four weeks. That is genuinely it.

When they are ready, frame them in a simple clip frame for instant wall art. Press them onto a handwritten card. Arrange them on a little tray or tuck them into a journal page. The options are endless and none of them require a screen.

It is a small thing, but small things that get us outside and into our hands are kind of everything.

Homemade butter is one of those things that sounds impressive but is almost shockingly simple. Once you make it once you will wonder why you ever bought it from a store. It also makes the most beautiful gift — little crocks of fresh butter with a sprinkle of flaky salt on top feel so special and personal.

You only need one ingredient: heavy whipping cream. That’s it.

What you need:

• 2 cups heavy whipping cream, room temperature

• A pinch of flaky sea salt (optional but highly recommended)

• A stand mixer or hand mixer

How to make it:

Pour your cream into the bowl of your stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Turn it on medium high and just let it go. It will whip into fluffy whipped cream first — keep going. After a few more minutes it will start to look curdled and yellow. That is exactly what you want. You will notice the liquid starting to separate from the solid. That liquid is buttermilk, and you can save it for pancakes or biscuits.

Once the butter has fully separated, pour off the buttermilk and then rinse the butter under cold water, kneading it gently with clean hands or a spatula until the water runs clear. This step keeps it fresh longer.

Pat it into a little crock or jar, sprinkle the top with flaky salt, and refrigerate. It keeps for about a week.

Spread it on warm sourdough and feel completely proud of yourself!

You know that feeling after a long day in the sun? You come home a little golden, a little tired in the best way. Your skin has that warmth to it. Your hair has texture. You do not need much.

That is exactly the energy of the Rhode summer drop — and I say this as someone who just got her hands on the products this morning after missing the original launch entirely. Worth every minute of the wait.

Here is all you need before that dinner reservation: a swipe of the Pocket Bronze in whatever shade matches your natural warmth right now, a little Highlight Milk on the high points of your face and your collarbones, and one of the new Peptide Lip Tints in Colada, Macadamia Butter, or Honey Mango. That is it. You walk out the door looking like you spent a week in the South of France.

The Highlight Milk is built on their Glazing Milk formula so your skin actually feels good while it glows. The Pocket Bronze is a cream that just melts in. And the lip tints are exactly what a summer evening calls for — a little color, a lot of gloss, zero effort.

It sold out fast but they restock regularly, so get on the list at here and be ready. Summer is just getting started, and here is everything in my Summer Makeup Bag!

I have to be honest with you — I am days away from having my first baby and my brain needed something easy, something that felt like a warm afternoon and had absolutely zero to do with hospital bags or newborn schedules. I needed a book that was just for me.

So I picked up Same Time Next Summer by Annabel Monaghan and I am already so glad I did.

It is a second chance romance about Sam and Wyatt, who spent every childhood summer together on Long Island, fell in love as teenagers, and then lost each other for fourteen years. When they end up back on Long Island at the same time, Sam is engaged to someone else — and everything gets complicated in the best way.

It is exactly what I needed. Monaghan has a gift for nailing the vibe of a perfect summer day and this book genuinely feels like one. People have described it as having Sweet Home Alabama energy with a Hamptons twist and I think that is exactly right.

If you are looking for something to throw in your bag this summer — something that does not require a lot of brain power but will absolutely keep you turning pages, this is it. The perfect porch read.

Summer is peak garden season and also, unfortunately, peak garden pest season. If you have walked outside lately and noticed your leaves looking a little chewed up or your seedlings mysteriously disappearing overnight, you are not imagining things. Something is out there.

I have earwigs right now and honestly they sent me down a rabbit hole. Earwigs love cool, moist conditions so they spend the day hiding under mulch and soil and then come out at night to feed — which is why you often never actually see them on your plants. Sneaky little things.

Here is what I did and it genuinely works: mix equal parts vegetable oil and soy sauce in a small shallow container and bury it so the rim sits level with the soil near wherever you are seeing damage. The soy sauce lures them in and the oil traps them so they cannot get out. Check it in the morning. You will be equal parts amazed and horrified.

A few other common summer pests and simple fixes worth knowing:

Aphids — tiny clusters of soft bugs usually on new growth. A simple spray bottle of water and a few drops of dish soap applied directly to the leaves does the trick. Repeat every few days.

Spider mites — look for fine webbing on the undersides of leaves, especially in hot dry weather. Mist your plants more frequently and use the same soapy water spray.

Slugs — if you are seeing irregular holes in your leaves and a silvery trail nearby, slugs are your culprit. They are most active after rain. A shallow dish of beer set at soil level traps them the same way the soy sauce trap works for earwigs.

The general rule with garden pests is to catch them early and reach for the simplest solution first. Most of the time a little dish soap, some oil, or just a good spray of water is all you need. Your garden is tougher than it looks.

That is your Sunday reset for the week. A little something for your hands, your kitchen, your skin, your bookshelf, and your garden. I hope something in here made you feel excited even just a little shimmer of it — because that is exactly what this space is for.

I am signing off today as a mama who is days away from meeting her girl for the very first time, and I cannot think of a better reason to have something to look forward to.

See you next Sunday.

The grass looks greener lately.

Not because anything changed overnight. Not because some big moment arrived and everything shifted at once. But because I started watering the same spot. Regularly. Quietly. Even on the days I couldn’t see anything growing at all.

That’s the thing nobody tells you about the season just before a breakthrough. It looks exactly like nothing is working.

You’re doing the thing. Showing up. Putting in the effort. And the ground looks just as dry as it did last week. The temptation to stop — to try a different spot, a different approach, a different everything — is so loud in that season. Because the gap between planting and blooming is uncomfortable. It’s filled with what if it doesn’t work and maybe I should quit and is this even worth it.

But what if that feeling — that anxious, restless, almost-there feeling — is actually the signal?

I’ve started telling myself something when it shows up: this is always how I feel right before it gets so good.

Because it’s true. Look back at your own life. The moments just before something beautiful happened — were they not also the moments you almost gave up? The job you almost didn’t apply for. The relationship you almost walked away from. The thing you almost quit one week before it finally clicked.

The breakthrough doesn’t come to the people who found a better spot. It comes to the people who kept watering.

Whatever you’re tending right now — keep going. The green is coming.

There is something happening this summer and I want to name it out loud.

We are all a little tired of our screens.

Not in a dramatic way. Just in that quiet, nagging way where you put your phone down and pick it up thirty seconds later without even meaning to. Where the end of the day comes and you think — what did I actually do today?

The antidote, I think, is making something. Something that exists in the physical world. Something you can hold.

This summer I’m coming back to scrapbooking — one of those hobbies that sounds almost laughably simple until you’re sitting at a table with photos printed out and pretty paper scraps and stickers and you look up and two hours have passed and you feel genuinely, deeply good.

Here’s how to start without overthinking it:

Pull out an old journal or notebook. It doesn’t need to be fancy. A composition book from the dollar section works perfectly.

Print some photos. Your phone is full of beautiful moments that deserve to exist outside of a screen. Walgreens and CVS print 4x6s for less than a dollar each. Print ten. Just start there.

Gather scraps from around the house. Washi tape, old magazines, wrapping paper, fabric scraps, pressed flowers from the garden, ticket stubs, anything with texture or color or meaning.

And if you want to stock up on supplies — I’ll link a few of my favorite affordable scrapbooking finds here so you don’t have to guess.

No rules. No perfection. Just you, your hands, and a little proof that your life is worth documenting.

Put the phone in the other room. See what happens.

Watermelon Cucumber Feta Basil Salad

Summer has a flavor and it is this salad.

Cold, crisp, sweet, salty, fresh — everything your body is asking for when the heat settles in and the idea of turning on the oven sounds like a personal offense.

This is the kind of recipe that looks impressive at a gathering and takes approximately ten minutes to make. It’s the definition of slow living cooking — simple, seasonal, and made from things that are at their absolute peak right now.

A note on picking the perfect watermelon: Look for a creamy yellow spot on the bottom — that’s where it sat in the sun and ripened. The duller and more matte the outside, the better. Give it a knock — a deep, hollow thud means it’s ripe and full of juice. Avoid anything shiny or without that yellow patch.

What you’ll need:

• Half a seedless watermelon, cubed

• 1 English cucumber, sliced into half moons

• ½ cup crumbled feta cheese

• A generous handful of fresh basil, torn

• 2 tbsp olive oil

• 1 tbsp honey

• Juice of one lime

• Flaky sea salt and cracked black pepper

How to make it: Arrange your watermelon and cucumber on a wide platter — don’t toss it in a bowl, the presentation is half the magic here. Scatter the feta generously over the top. Tear your basil and let it fall wherever it lands. Whisk together the olive oil, honey, and lime juice and drizzle it over everything. Finish with a pinch of flaky salt and a crack of pepper.

Serve cold. Eat outside if you can.

This is summer on a plate!

How to Hold a Cockroach — Matthew Maxwell

My friend Elle recommended this and it turns out, it was exactly what I needed.

How to Hold a Cockroach is described as a children’s book for adults and that is exactly what it is — beautifully illustrated, quietly profound, and finished in an afternoon. It follows a boy on a simple journey that somehow manages to ask all of the biggest questions: what causes us to suffer, how much of what we believe was handed to us by someone else, and what it actually means to be free.

The most important lessons in life are rarely complicated. They’re simple things we once knew and slowly forgot. Things we need someone to hand back to us every so often, wrapped in a story gentle enough to actually get through.

This is that book for right now, in this season, in this summer.

Read it slowly. You’ll finish it in one sitting anyway — but try.

Every Year After — Prime Video

If you have been looking for your next can’t stop, won’t stop binge — it just dropped.

Every Year After arrived on Prime Video this week and it is everything summer romance was made to be. Based on Carley Fortune’s beloved novel Every Summer After. The show follows Percy and Sam, two people whose paths keep finding each other across years and seasons and the kind of history that doesn’t untangle easily.

Clear your evening. Make the watermelon salad. Settle in.

Some summers just have a show and this is ours.

Save Your Eggshells

The simplest things are so often the best things.

Before you throw away another eggshell — stop. Rinse it, let it dry, and crush it right into your garden soil. That’s it. That is the whole tip.

Eggshells are full of calcium which strengthens plant cell walls and helps your garden grow stronger and more resilient. They break down slowly and feed the soil over time, they deter certain pests who don’t love the sharp edges, and they cost you exactly nothing because you were going to throw them away anyway.

Keep a small bowl on your counter. Every egg you crack goes in. Every few days take it outside and work the crushed shells into the soil around your plants.

Five seconds. Free. And your garden will thank you for it all season long.

The best things rarely ask much of us. They just ask us to pay attention.

This week I hope you felt something in that opening that was meant for you specifically. Because it was.

Whatever you’re building, tending, hoping for — you’re closer than you think. Keep watering.

I’ll see you next Sunday.

(all photos saved via Pinterest)

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Maybe you are too.

The version of you who spent a whole winter obsessed with sourdough. The one who rearranged the living room four times looking for the feeling. Who tried journaling, then quit, then tried again. Who started something beautiful, got distracted by something shinier, and then found herself one ordinary evening — craving the exact thing she’d walked away from.

That woman is not scattered. That woman is a museum.

We were told to pick a thing and stay. One career. One passion. One version of yourself presented consistently for public approval. But what if the most interesting life is actually the one that meanders? The one that circles back? The one that collects?

A woman who has loved a hundred things fully is not unfocused. She is rich.

You are allowed to come back to things. You are allowed to try things. You are allowed to be a little bit of everything you’ve ever loved — all at once, in whatever order feels right.

That’s what this little corner of the internet is for.

Welcome to The Slow Living Lane.

Your First Stitch: The Pillowcase

There is something quietly satisfying about making something with your hands.

I think most of us have a version of a creative life we quietly abandoned. Mine was sewing — I started a little business called Sadie Ladies Couture in junior high, was making my own clothes, completely consumed by fabric and thread and the magic of turning something flat into something you could actually wear. And then somehow, the way things do, life moved on and the machine went quiet.

Maybe yours was painting. Or knitting. Or pottery. Or something you haven’t even tried yet but keep bookmarking and telling yourself someday.

This summer I decided someday is now. I want more hobbies that keep me off my phone. More things that feel like something at the end. More making. A few mornings ago I was at breakfast with my cousins and sewing came up and something just lit up in me — that feeling of yes, that’s it, that’s the thing. I came home and decided it was time.

So I’m inviting you to come with me. Pick your thing. The one that keeps quietly calling you back.

If sewing is yours — here’s exactly where to start.

Find your machine. Facebook Marketplace is full of perfectly good machines for $30 to $60, often barely used, sometimes still in the box. You don’t need anything fancy. Just a reliable straight stitch and the willingness to begin.

Find your fabric. Dig through your closet for an oversized linen shirt you never wear. Hit a thrift store for a pretty flat sheet. Grab a yard of something beautiful from a craft store. You need less than you think.

Your first project: A simple pillowcase Cut your fabric to 27x40 inches. Fold in half with the pretty side facing inward. Pin along two long sides and one short side. Sew a straight seam along all three pinned edges. Trim your corners, flip it right side out, press with your iron, and tuck in the open edge with a simple hem.

That’s it. You made something.

Whatever your version of Sadie Ladies Couture was — it’s not too late to go back for it.

Strawberry Cream Layer Cake

You know that feeling when you walk into someone’s kitchen and it feels like a Nancy Meyers movie? Something is on the stove and the light is coming through the window just right and you think — I want to live like that?

You can. It starts with a Saturday afternoon and a bowl of strawberries.

This cake looks like it came from a bakery. It did not. It came from an ordinary kitchen, on a slow afternoon, made by someone who just decided the day deserved something beautiful. That someone can be you.

What you’ll need:

For the sponge:

• 2 cups all purpose flour

• 2 tsp baking powder

• ½ tsp salt

• ½ cup butter, softened

• 1½ cups sugar

• 3 eggs

• 1 tsp vanilla

• 1 cup whole milk

For the filling and topping:

• 2 cups heavy whipping cream

• 3 tbsp powdered sugar

• 1 tsp vanilla

• 2 lbs fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced

How to make it:

Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease and flour three 8 inch round cake pans — three layers is what gives this cake that gorgeous height.

Cream your butter and sugar together until pale and fluffy, about three minutes. Add your eggs one at a time, then your vanilla. Alternate adding your flour mixture and milk, starting and ending with flour. Don’t overthink it.

Divide evenly between your three pans and bake for 22 to 25 minutes until a toothpick comes out clean. Let them cool completely before you touch them — this is the one rule you cannot skip.

While they cool, whip your heavy cream with the powdered sugar and vanilla until soft peaks form. Toss your sliced strawberries with a tiny pinch of sugar and let them sit for ten minutes. They’ll release the most beautiful syrup.

Now build it. First layer of sponge, generous cloud of cream, strawberries scattered over the top. Second layer, more cream, more strawberries. Final layer, the rest of your cream swooped on top however feels right, and then pile those strawberries on like you mean it.

Put it on your prettiest cake stand. Light a candle next to it. Pour yourself something cold.

This is what slow living looks like. And you made it.

Our Perfect Storm — Carley Fortune

There is a specific kind of summer that only exists inside a good book.

The kind where you lose track of time completely. Where you look up and the afternoon is gone and you don’t even feel guilty about it because you were somewhere. Living someone else’s story for a little while, which somehow makes you feel more alive in your own.

That’s the kind of summer reading you deserve.

This week’s pick is Carley Fortune’s brand new Our Perfect Storm — best friends Frankie and George, a story that already has the whole internet talking. If you’ve read any of her books you already know she writes summer like nobody else. If you haven’t, there is genuinely no better place to start than right here, right now, with the windows open and something cold to drink.

Summer is too short for a book that doesn’t pull you in completely.

This one will.

Dutton Ranch — Paramount+

Some shows don’t just entertain you. They give you somewhere to go.

If you’ve been missing that feeling — the one where you finish an episode and immediately reach for the remote because you are not ready to leave yet — Dutton Ranch is your answer.

Beth and Rip are back. Starting completely over — new place, new enemies, new life — and bringing their adopted son Carter along for the ride. My husband and I have been completely glued to it and I will tell you it has that exact feeling Yellowstone gave us, that rare combination of tension and loyalty and love that makes you feel like all is right in the world even when everything on screen is going sideways.

Pour something good. Find your coziest spot on the couch. Tell whoever is nearby that you are unavailable for the foreseeable future.

You deserve a show that feels like an event. This is it.

Weed Before You Weep

Here is something nobody tells you about a garden: it doesn’t ask for much. Just a little attention, given consistently, before things get out of hand.

The weeds don’t start as a problem. They start as one little thing you notice on a Tuesday and tell yourself you’ll deal with on Saturday. And then it’s August and you’re standing in front of a garden bed that has genuinely taken on a life of its own wondering where the whole summer went.

Sound familiar?

The moment you see the first sign — one little weed poking through the mulch, one rogue vine creeping where it shouldn’t — that is the moment. Not the weekend. Not when you have more time. Right then, with your morning coffee still warm, before you talk yourself out of it.

Pull it while the soil is still soft. Get the root, not just the top — a weed that loses its top is just a weed that’s annoyed. A thick layer of mulch after a good weeding session is your best friend and will buy you weeks of peace.

Five minutes of tending now saves five hours of suffering later.

Your garden is worth the Tuesday. And so, for what it’s worth, are most things in life.

Thank you for being here. For slowing down, even just for a few minutes on a Sunday morning. In a world that is always rushing toward the next thing, choosing slow is its own kind of radical act.

I’ll see you next Sunday.

(all photos saved via Pinterest)

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I keep coming back to the idea that we each have an inner guidance system, something built into us that is always responding to what feels aligned, what feels heavy, what creates expansion, and what slowly pulls us away from ourselves. It is subtle enough that you can miss it if your life is too loud, but once you start paying attention, it becomes hard to ignore how often your body and energy are trying to tell you the truth before your mind catches up.

What fascinates me most is how often that guidance shows up in ordinary moments. It is not always some huge revelation or dramatic turning point. Sometimes it is simply noticing that certain things give you energy while others drain it immediately. Certain conversations leave you feeling clear and alive, while others leave you oddly unsettled. Some kinds of work make you forget to check the time, while other tasks feel heavy before you have even started them. Even the way you wake up can say a lot. There are seasons where you open your eyes and feel connected to what the day holds, even if life is busy or imperfect. And then there are seasons where dread arrives before your feet even hit the floor.

I think we often underestimate how meaningful that difference is. We have been taught to value discipline, logic, responsibility, and pushing through discomfort, which all matter, but very few people are taught how to interpret their own internal feedback. Excitement is often dismissed as impractical, and exhaustion is normalized so quickly that people stop questioning what it may be pointing to.

But what if excitement is information? What if the things that naturally light you up are not random preferences, but actual clues about where your life wants to move?

I have heard people describe your inner guidance system as something that constantly reveals whether you are in alignment with your path, and honestly, the more I observe life, the more that resonates. When you are doing work that fits, there is usually an energy underneath it, even when it is hard. That does not mean every day feels effortless or inspiring. It simply means there is a deeper sense of meaning that makes the effort feel connected to something real. You can be tired and still feel deeply engaged. You can be stretched and still know you are where you need to be.

What feels different is the kind of tiredness that comes from living in quiet resistance. The kind where everything starts to feel heavier than it should. You become short fused. Small things irritate you more than usual. Procrastination grows. Anxiety becomes louder. You dread emails, conversations, routines, or environments that once felt manageable. And because modern life teaches us to power through almost everything, many people stay in that state far longer than they should, assuming it is just adulthood. Sometimes it is stress, yes. But sometimes it is something deeper asking for your attention.

That does not automatically mean every uncomfortable feeling is a sign to quit, leave, or start over. But I do think discomfort deserves curiosity. There is wisdom in asking what exactly your system is reacting to. Is it pressure? Is it pace? Is it misalignment? Is it a version of life that no longer fits who you are becoming? Sometimes your body notices what your mind has not fully admitted yet. Sometimes you already know something is off, but you have not wanted to say it out loud because saying it out loud makes it real.

The same thing happens in relationships. There are people who naturally create calm in you, even when life itself is chaotic. And there are people who leave you feeling emotionally contracted without obvious explanation. You may not always be able to articulate why, but your nervous system usually knows long before your mind builds the full story. I think that is part of inner guidance too, learning to trust what your body consistently tells you after certain interactions, environments, or patterns.

What complicates all of this is fear, because fear can sound convincing and often disguises itself as practicality. Fear tells you to stay where things are known, even if they are no longer nourishing. Fear argues that uncertainty is dangerous and that discomfort must mean you are asking for too much. But fear and truth do not feel identical. Fear tends to feel sharp, urgent, and noisy. Inner knowing feels quieter. It often arrives without panic. It feels more like a steady recognition than a dramatic alarm.

That is why slowing down matters so much. Most people are trying to hear themselves while living in constant input, constant comparison, constant stimulation. But clarity usually does not arrive in noise. It arrives when there is enough space to notice what creates peace, what creates tension, what repeatedly calls your attention, and what continues to return even when you try to ignore it.

I think your inner guidance system rarely gives you the full map. It usually gives you the next honest signal. A pull toward something. A loss of energy around something else. A sense that one part of your life feels expansive while another feels increasingly tight. The work is learning not to dismiss those signals just because they are quiet.

Because often the quietest truths end up changing everything.

✨ With Love, SJ

Hear me out.

We’ve all heard the old saying that the universe doesn’t know right from wrong, that whatever energy you put out is what you’re going to get back. And if your nervous system isn’t regulated, bad things are going to happen to you. If it is, good things are going to happen. On the surface, that sounds simple and even inspirational, but it can also be kind of terrifying—and mostly, it’s not exactly true.

I want to unpack this and give us a steadier, more relatable way to think about it. Life is full of good things and bad things. That’s just how it goes. Your thoughts or your energy aren’t going to magically control the external world. But your inner state the way your body and nervous system are functioning, does influence how you move through life, how you notice opportunities, how you respond to challenges, and yes, even how “lucky” you feel.

So Lucky Girl Syndrome is real, but not because saying you’re lucky magically pulls in good things. It’s real because your brain and body start noticing things that feel lucky when you’re internally aligned and regulated. Saying “I’m the luckiest girl ever” isn’t creating magic—it’s a way to shift attention and attitude so your nervous system relaxes just enough to notice what’s already working. That could be as small as noticing a free parking spot, a friend texting at the right time, or a perfectly timed sunny day.

So how do you become the luckiest girl in the world?

Step one: stop thinking you have to control reality

A lot of us get pulled into ideas that make it seem like we’re responsible for everything bad that happens. Thoughts like: “If I think a bad thought, something bad will happen” or “If I don’t manifest hard enough, I’ll fail.” This can create a treadmill of anxiety where life feels like it’s punishing you for every “wrong” thought. That’s exactly what happens when you try to control outcomes rather than your internal state.

Instead, try this reframe: your inner state shapes how you move through reality, not whether reality obeys you. Life isn’t a cosmic vending machine. Life will happen. It will throw curveballs. But how you experience it through your clarity, your presence, your ability to navigate—is shaped by your nervous system.

Step two: check in with your nervous system

Your nervous system is your internal radar for safety. When it’s dysregulated, it interprets life as more urgent or dangerous than it really is. That’s why you can have all your bills paid and still wake up in the middle of the night panicking about money. Or why something small can feel like a catastrophe.

When your nervous system is regulated, it’s like having a calm, steady boat in a storm. The storm is still there, but you can steer without capsizing. You can feel fear or stress, but you’re not controlled by it. This is also why grounding practices, meditation, and even saying “I am the luckiest girl ever” in a mindful, non-forcing way can help—it literally shifts attention and calms the nervous system, which changes how you experience the world.

Step three: attention shapes perception

This is where Lucky Girl Syndrome really intersects with neuroscience. Your brain has a filter called the reticular activating system, or RAS. Its job is to decide what gets your attention and what doesn’t.

When you focus on scarcity, danger, or what could go wrong, your RAS highlights all of that. When you focus on abundance, beauty, connection, or things that feel lucky, your RAS highlights those things instead. Life itself doesn’t magically change. Your experience of it does. This is why people who practice gratitude, positive affirmations, or even playful Lucky Girl affirmations often notice more good things. They’re not attracting magic, they’re just noticing what matches their attention.

Step four: moving from fear to regulation

Think about all the times you’ve worried you’re “doing it wrong” spiritually or in life.

That’s the old mindset: I have to control my thoughts or reality will punish me.

The healthier, more grounded way is: my inner state affects how I move through reality, not whether reality obeys me.

Bad things will still happen. Good things will still happen. That’s just life. But when your body is regulated and your mind is steady, you can navigate both with more clarity and grace. You notice what’s working, respond thoughtfully, and make decisions without panic. You don’t need to suppress fear or force positivity. You just notice, breathe, and act from a steadier place.

Step five: why Lucky Girl Syndrome works in practice

If you’ve ever tried telling yourself you’re the luckiest girl or that abundance is flowing—it works because of attention and nervous system regulation. When you say it, your nervous system relaxes just a little. That attention shift makes you notice opportunities, connections, and small wins you might have ignored before. The universe isn’t rewarding you. Your perception is adjusting. Your brain is scanning for evidence that matches your focus. And suddenly, yes, you feel luckier.

It’s also why forced positivity doesn’t work. Pretending everything is perfect actually creates tension and disbelief. True Lucky Girl Syndrome is playful, aligned, and grounded—it notices reality and finds joy, not denies difficulty.

Step six: grounding in real life

Personally, pregnancy has been the ultimate lesson in this. I’m usually very goal-oriented, always focused on career, output, what’s next. But pregnancy taught me I don’t have to do anything to be valuable. I’m literally doing the biggest thing possible: growing a baby. That slowed me down, turned me inward, and made me more present. My internal regulation became my superpower. And it’s exactly the same principle as Lucky Girl Syndrome: when your nervous system is steady, you notice the luck and abundance that’s already there, and you navigate life more gracefully.

Step seven: practical steps

1. Ground first – feet on the floor, slow breaths, feel your body.

2. Notice reality – acknowledge what’s working and what’s challenging without judgment.

3. Check your nervous system – are you tense or braced? Pause and breathe if so.

4. Shift attention gently – notice abundance, good moments, and playful signs of luck.

5. Respond instead of react – act from steadiness, not panic or desperation.

This is how Lucky Girl Syndrome turns from a cute saying into a practical life tool. You’re not controlling reality. You’re just noticing more of what’s good, calmer, and aligned.

Life will always have good and bad. Saying “I’m the luckiest girl” isn’t a spell. What matters is your nervous system and how you meet reality. When you’re regulated, the hard moments feel lighter, the good moments feel richer, and you notice opportunities and abundance that were always there. Lucky Girl Syndrome isn’t magic—it’s neuroscience, attention, and presence wrapped up in a playful phrase.

This St. Patrick’s Day, don’t stress about luck. Focus on your body, your nervous system, and your attention. Notice what’s working. Respond instead of react. That’s the real magic—and the real luck!🍀

If you read my recent piece about imagining the life I wanted while sitting outside on my dad’s farm, this is the little workbook I mentioned.

It’s called The Dream Life Clarity Guide, and it walks you through the exact reflection process I use when I want to get clear on what I’m calling in next. Nothing complicated, just thoughtful prompts to help you imagine the life you want and start moving toward it.

You can download the guide below.

The Dream Life Clarity Guide

9.2MB ∙ PDF file

Download

Download

I hope it helps you get a little clearer on the next chapter of your life. Sometimes all it takes is sitting down and being honest about what you actually want.

Thank you for supporting my writing. It really does mean a lot to me!

PS: If you end up doing the guide, I’d love to hear what came up for you. Feel free to reply here. :)

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I remember sitting out there a lot. Just me, the quiet, and the mountains in the distance.

And instead of stressing about what was coming next, I started doing something different. I started getting really honest with myself about what I actually wanted.

Not what seemed realistic.
Not what other people expected.
Not what sounded impressive.

Just what felt good to imagine.

So I would sit there and picture my life.

I remember thinking that one day I would meet my husband. I pictured him living somewhere up on those mountains I was looking at. I imagined that he had an amazing family and really good friends. The kind of people who do fun things together all the time. The kind of people who make life feel full.

I pictured that he would be kind and caring and that we would actually be best friends. Like the person I wanted to tell everything to. The person I would marry.

Then I started imagining where we would live.

I wanted an old house. Something with character and charm. The kind of house that has a story. But inside it would be redone and cozy and beautiful. I pictured a big backyard. Mature trees everywhere. A garden. Flowers growing everywhere.

And of course a big fluffy dog running around the yard.

I also imagined my work.

At the time I was working at a wedding venue, and loved seeing the florists come in and create. I had no idea how to actually turn that into a career. Still, when I pictured my future, I always saw myself as a wedding florist. Not just that but, I saw myself owning my own floral business. And doing this full time.

Which honestly felt slightly unhinged at the time because I had no clue what I was doing.

But I kept imagining it anyway.

Fast forward to now.

And it is honestly a little surreal to say this out loud, but I am living almost exactly what I pictured back then.

I married the guy who is kind and caring and truly my best friend. His family is amazing. His friends are amazing. We are always doing fun things together.

We live in an old house that has been redone on the inside. It has so much character. Rose bushes line the walkway. Our yard is huge. We have trees everywhere. I have my garden.

And yes, we have the big fluffy dog.

I also own a floral business. I am a full time wedding florist.

Sometimes I stop and look around and think, this is the life I once sat outside and prayed for.

It is the weirdest and most beautiful feeling.

Because when you are imagining something, it feels so far away. Almost like a fantasy version of life.

And then one day you wake up and realize you are inside of it.

Which makes me think about something really important.

Most people think manifesting your life is about obsessing over it all day. Writing it down a hundred times. Making vision boards every week. Constantly asking the universe for things.

But honestly that was never my approach.

The biggest thing I did was simply decide what I wanted.

That sounds so basic, but it is actually the step most people skip. A lot of us are walking through life hoping something good happens without ever clearly choosing what we want that good thing to look like.

Once I decided, the rest was surprisingly simple.

I would visualize it sometimes. Not every day. Just whenever it felt fun. Usually during my morning meditation or when I was sitting outside.

I would picture the house. The yard. The dog. My husband. My floral business.

And instead of treating it like some far away dream, I would let myself get excited about it like it was already on its way.

Another thing that helped me a lot was gratitude.

Not fake gratitude. Not the kind where you force yourself to say thank you for things you secretly hate.

Just simple moments throughout the day where I would notice things that were already good. The sunshine. My family. A good conversation. A peaceful morning.

Gratitude changes the way you move through the world. When you start appreciating what you already have, you naturally become someone who receives more good things.

But the biggest piece of this whole puzzle was action.

When I decided I wanted to become a florist, I did not wait until I felt fully qualified. I did not wait until I had everything figured out.

I took a short little program to learn the basics. Then I put my business together and just started posting.

And when I say I had no idea what I was doing, I mean it.

I was absolutely winging it.

But I kept showing up anyway.

This is the part people do not talk about enough with manifestation. At some point you have to start acting like the version of you who already has the life you want.

Even if it feels slightly delusional at first.

I started introducing myself as a florist before I fully felt like one. I posted my work online. I put myself out there. I said yes to opportunities that felt a little scary.

Of course there were moments of imposter syndrome. Moments where I thought, who am I to be doing this?

But something interesting happens when you keep going.

Reality starts giving you proof.

You book your first wedding.
Then another one.
Then people start recommending you to their friends.

Suddenly you are not pretending anymore.

You actually are the thing you said you were.

Eventually the small steps compound into something real. One day you look around and realize this is not a side hobby anymore.

This is your full time life.

And that is how most dreams actually unfold. Not in one giant moment, but through hundreds of tiny moments where you chose to believe it was possible.

Now that I am here, I feel a deep sense of gratitude for this chapter of life.

But something else has been stirring lately too.

That quiet feeling that it might be time for the next adventure.

And the funny thing is, that feeling does not scare me the way it used to. Because now I know something I did not know back then.

If I could imagine that life sitting on a farm looking at the mountains, and then slowly build it piece by piece, there is no reason I cannot do it again.

So lately I have been doing the same thing.

Getting quiet.

Getting honest.

Looking ahead and asking myself what the next version of my life looks like.

Because if there is one thing I know for sure now, it is this.

The life you are dreaming about today might be the life you are standing in a few years from now.

And one day you might stop, look around, and think to yourself,

Wow.

This is exactly what I once asked for.

If this resonated with you and you’re in that season of wondering what’s next, I made something for you.

It’s called The Dream Life Clarity Guide.
It’s the exact journaling prompts and exercises I use to get clear on what I want and start calling it in.

Paid subscribers, you can download it here:

The Dream Life Clarity Guide

Before you go, I’d actually love to know something.

Was there something this article immediately made you think of?

Maybe that’s your sign.

When I start my day grounded and intentional, everything flows better. I feel calmer, more patient, more present. When I skip it and immediately grab my phone or rush into the day, something just feels off. Not catastrophic, just slightly chaotic. Like my nervous system is already ten steps behind.

My morning routine is not complicated. It is actually very simple. But the impact it has on my day is huge.

Most mornings I wake up and go sit somewhere comfortable in my house and do a short meditation. Sometimes it is five minutes. Sometimes ten. Occasionally I get a little ambitious and do twenty minutes and feel like a monk for the rest of the day.

The goal is not to be perfect at meditating. The goal is just to pause. To sit in silence before the world starts talking at you. No phone, no scrolling, no notifications telling you what everyone else is doing before you have even checked in with yourself.

After meditating, I practice gratitude. I usually write down a few things I am grateful for, but the important part is that I actually try to feel them.

Not just “I’m grateful for my family” and move on.

I pause and really think about the people in my life. The roof over my head. My body growing a baby. The tiny things that are easy to overlook but are actually everything.

Gratitude is one of the fastest ways to shift your energy. You can start your morning feeling tired, overwhelmed, or a little low, and within a few minutes something inside you softens.

Then I pray.

But the way I pray has changed a lot over the years. I try not to pray from a place of begging or scarcity. Instead I pray from gratitude and trust.

For example, instead of saying something like, “God please provide this for me,” I say something more like, “Thank you for always providing exactly what I need exactly when I need it.”

Even if the thing has not arrived yet.

It shifts your mindset from hoping life works out to trusting that it already is.

After that I try to get sunlight. This can be stepping outside for a few minutes, taking my dog out, or even just standing near a window and letting the light hit my face.

Morning sunlight is one of the most underrated wellness habits. It helps regulate your circadian rhythm, supports your mood, and tells your body that the day has started.

And with spring coming soon, there is something about feeling the sun on your face that just wakes your whole soul up.

Then comes movement.

Right now I am 24 weeks pregnant, so movement looks a little different than it used to. Some days I do a prenatal Pilates class. Some days I take my dog for a walk. Some days I just stretch on the floor for a few minutes.

All of it counts.

Moving your body in the morning gets stagnant energy flowing again. It wakes up your brain, your body, and honestly your mood too.

After that I make myself a nourishing breakfast. I do not drink a lot of caffeine, but when I do it is usually a matcha. I always make sure I eat before having caffeine because it helps keep cortisol levels more balanced and prevents that anxious, jittery feeling later. (Let’s be real, most days breakfast comes first because baby is hungry!)

My breakfast fixation for the last month!

This routine is something I have practiced for years, and I will say this honestly. Every time I stop doing it, I feel the difference.

During my first trimester I was extremely sick and honestly just in survival mode. It was winter, I felt terrible, and my morning routine completely disappeared. I remember feeling so disconnected and off during that time.

Now that I am feeling better and slowly stepping back into these habits, I am reminded how powerful they actually are.

And here is the deeper truth behind all of this.

The glow everyone wants on the outside always starts on the inside.

You cannot shortcut that part.

The calm energy. The grounded presence. The gratitude. The connection with yourself and whatever you believe in. That is where the glow comes from. Not a skincare routine. Not a product. Not anything external.

When you take time to fill your own cup in the morning, your entire energy changes. And people feel that.

Of course, I know not everyone has hours to dedicate to a morning routine. Life is busy. Some of you have kids. Some of you are rushing to work.

But even waking up twenty minutes earlier can make a huge difference.

Five minutes of meditation.
A few gratitudes.
A quick stretch.
A nourishing breakfast.

Even on mornings when I only have time for a five minute meditation, it still shifts something. It brings me back to the present moment and reminds me that I get to choose the energy I carry into the day.

And that choice, more often than not, changes the entire trajectory of the day ahead.

Because when you start your morning by going within, the glow naturally follows.

Do you have a morning routine right now, or is it something you’re trying to build?

I came across a video the other day that said the way I was praying wasn’t actually helping me. And at first I was like okay… here we go. But then I listened. And it hit.

Before I go any further, this isn’t just about God or Christianity or any one belief system. This is about perspective. Whether you pray to God like I do, talk to the universe, journal to your higher self, or just whisper thoughts into the air hoping something hears you, this will work for you.

So here’s what I used to do.

My prayers sounded like this: God, please help me with this. God, please keep us safe. God, please let the money come in. God, please make this work. Please fix this. Please change this. Please give me this.

And it felt normal. It felt humble. It felt like that’s what you’re supposed to do.

But the girl on TikTok said something different. She said instead of asking from a place of need, start thanking from a place of trust.

God, thank you for always providing for me. Thank you for always keeping us safe. Thank you for guiding me. Thank you for bringing the right opportunities. Thank you for working things out for me.

Same desires. Totally different energy.

When I really sat with it, I realized the first way kind of closes you in. It subtly reinforces that you don’t have it yet. That you’re behind. That you’re lacking. And your body feels that. Your nervous system feels that.

The second way opens you up. It relaxes you. It places you in a reality where things are already moving in your favor. You’re not begging. You’re believing.

Years ago I went deep into learning about the law of attraction. And one of the biggest principles is this idea that you don’t ask from a place of lack. You align from a place of already having. You feel it as if it’s done.

Then my friend reminded me of something from the Bible. It literally says that when you pray, believe that you have already received it.

I just sat there like… why is this the same message in different packaging?

Act as if it’s already happening. Believe God is bringing it to you. Thank Him before you see it. It sounds so obvious. Like, duh. Of course that makes sense.

But it’s actually kind of hard.

We are so programmed to worry first. To ask first. To panic first. To say please fix this instead of thank you for handling this. Even though I’ve come across this concept so many times in my life, I still fall back into the old pattern.

And that’s when I realized this is a muscle.

You don’t go to the gym once and expect abs. You don’t pray differently one day and expect your brain to be rewired forever. Every time you catch yourself thinking from fear, you gently switch it. Every time you feel lack creeping in, you reframe it.

Thank you for providing.
Thank you for protecting.
Thank you for making a way.

At first it feels forced. Then it feels intentional. Then eventually it just starts to feel normal.

I don’t know if we ever wake up and immediately think this way without effort. Maybe some people do. I’m not there yet. But I am excited to practice it every day and see what happens.

Because at the very least, it makes life feel lighter.

Someone said recently that on Sundays, you should be so excited for the week ahead like it’s going to be the best week of your life. Expect miracles. Expect fun. Expect unexpected goodness. Be like, oh my, I’m so excited to be here. I can’t wait to see what happens this week!

And I thought about how we usually only feel that way before a vacation. Or a big event. And those weeks are amazing because we assume they will be. We are looking for evidence that it’s good. We are open.

So why don’t we do that at home?

Why don’t we wake up on a random Monday and say, I can’t wait to see what this week brings. I have a feeling something really good is coming.

A few years ago I had a horrible October. My boyfriend at the time and I broke up. I lost my grandma. I felt lost in my life. Just floating. Sad. Disoriented.

When November came around, something in me snapped in the best way. I decided November was going to be the best month of my life. I literally said it out loud. This is going to be the best month of my life. It is going to bring miracles. It is going to bring opportunities. It is going to be so good!

And I am not kidding when I tell you it was.

I got a job I never expected to love and ended up loving it. It was fun. It felt aligned. I made so many friends. I rediscovered parts of myself I had lost. I went back to hobbies I used to love. I got invited to really cool experiences that I never would have expected.

It felt like life opened back up.

Was it magic? Was it mindset? Was it God honoring the faith? I don’t know. Maybe it was all of it.

But I do know this. When you are optimistic on purpose, when you thank before you see, when you expect goodness, you start noticing it everywhere. You participate in your own miracle a little more.

This way of living pulls you out of the mundane. It reminds you that it is actually wild that we get to wake up again. That we get another week. Another chance. Another random Tuesday that could hold something life changing.

So this is me building the muscle again.

Thank you for what’s coming.
Thank you for what I can’t see yet.
Thank you for what is already working out for me.

Maybe try it this week. Just as an experiment. Wake up tomorrow and decide it’s going to be a good day. Thank God, or the universe, or whatever you believe in, for already handling it.

And then watch what happens.

WOW!

Because if that is true, then when life bumps us and stress hits and people disappoint us, whatever spills out of us is whatever we have been carrying around inside.

So if anger comes out, it is probably because anger has been steeping in there like a strong little emotional espresso. If anxiety comes out, same story. If joy somehow comes out even in chaos, then wow, teach a masterclass.

I love a metaphor that is simple but slightly offensive to my ego.

At first it feels unfair. Like excuse me, some people bump harder than others. Some people body slam you emotionally in the cereal aisle of life. Are we really saying it is on me if I spill?

Well. Kind of. Not in a blamey, shamey way. More in a gentle heads up from the universe kind of way.

Because we actually cannot control who bumps us. We cannot control the driver who cuts us off, the friend who ghosts, the client who nitpicks, or the algorithm that suddenly hates us. Bumps are guaranteed. That is part of being a human with a phone and relationships and a nervous system.

But what we can control, slowly and imperfectly, is what we keep pouring into our cup.

I started thinking about the last few times I got bumped. Not literally, I mean emotionally bumped. The passive aggressive text. The last minute cancellation. The day where everything small stacks up until you feel like a shaken soda can.

Sometimes what spills out of me is patience and humor. I can laugh, shrug, and move on. Other times what spills out is irritation, defensiveness, or a full internal monologue where I am the misunderstood main character in a drama.

Same person. Same life. Different spill.

So what changed? Not the bump. The cup.

I think a lot of us are walking around with cups full of unprocessed stress, comparison, quiet resentment, and that low level anxiety that hums in the background like a refrigerator. We are busy. We are stimulated. We are carrying mental tabs for a thousand things. Then we wonder why the smallest bump makes us overflow.

Of course it does. The cup was already at the brim.

The metaphor also helped me have more compassion for other people’s spills. When someone snaps, overreacts, or spirals, maybe they just got bumped while carrying a very full cup. It does not excuse bad behavior, but it does make the world feel a little more human and a little less personal.

And it raises a sneaky but powerful question.

If something is going to spill out of me when I get bumped anyway, what do I actually want that to be?

Because bumps are not an if. They are a when.

We spend so much time trying to bump proof our lives. We try to control outcomes, manage perceptions, plan perfectly, and avoid discomfort. But maybe the real work is not in preventing the bump. Maybe it is in tending to the cup.

That idea has been sitting with me, in a non annoying self help way, and making me more aware of what I am filling my days with. What I am consuming. What I am rehearsing in my mind. What I am letting live rent free in my emotional cup.

It is not about being positive all the time or pretending hard things do not hurt. It is about noticing what is becoming your default fill.

Because whatever is in there will introduce itself eventually.

If you have ever thought, wow I overreacted, or that was not the version of me I like, or why did that hit me so hard, this metaphor might be a gentle clue instead of a harsh judgment.

You are not broken. Your cup just deserves some intentional refilling.

And that is the part most of us were never really taught how to do.

Okay, if you are here, you are my people, because you cared enough to go past the metaphor and into the how. This is where it gets practical and also a little uncomfortable in the best way.

Filling your cup is not a one time spa day or a solo Target run, although I fully support both. It is the small, daily deposits that change what naturally overflows.

So here are three easy steps that I find work best for actually filling your cup. Do those consistently, and you’ll start seeing your overflow change without overcomplicating anything.

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But also… it’s getting kind of weird, right?

Somehow the whole conversation has turned into “How big can you get?” instead of “Why are you here?” And those are two very different questions.

When I think about writing, I don’t actually dream about thousands of strangers silently scrolling past my words. I think about connection. I think about someone reading something and feeling less alone, or seen, or understood. And that doesn’t require a stadium of people. Sometimes it just takes ten.

Ten real humans who open your emails. Ten people who recognize your name in their inbox. Ten people who feel like you’re talking to them and not at them.

There’s something kind of beautiful about being small enough to care deeply. When you have ten followers, you notice them. You reply to their comments. You remember their names. You write like you’re talking to a friend, not performing on a stage. There’s no pressure to be a “brand,” just a person.

And ironically, I think that’s what actually grows something meaningful.

Because people can feel when you’re chasing numbers. They can feel when every post is optimized, polished, and slightly hollow. But they can also feel when you’re writing because you love it, because you’re curious, because you want to share something real.

I think a lot of us (especially millennials who lived through the birth of social media) were sold this idea that bigger always equals better. More followers, more likes, more reach, more, more, more. But more doesn’t automatically mean deeper. It doesn’t mean happier. It doesn’t mean impactful.

If you can’t show up genuinely for ten people, you won’t magically become more genuine at ten thousand. You’ll just be a louder version of the same thing.

I’d rather build something slow and honest than fast and fragile. I’d rather have a small group who actually cares than a big group who barely notices. And I’d rather enjoy the process than constantly feel behind some imaginary growth curve.

So maybe the goal isn’t “How do I get to 1,000 followers?”

Maybe it’s “How do I make the 10 I have glad they’re here?”

Because those ten people? They’re not stepping stones. They’re the whole point.

And if it grows from there, amazing. But if it grows from a place of care instead of greed, I think it lasts longer. I think it feels better. I think it stays human.

Anyway, that’s my tiny rebellion against the hustle-culture version of creativity. I’m choosing depth over scale, at least for now.

And if you’re one of the ten reading this, I’m really glad you’re here!

Before I even open my eyes fully, before I’ve checked my phone or stretched or taken a real breath, there it is. A quiet but heavy voice reminding me of everything that could go wrong. Everything I might not be doing well enough. Everything that feels uncertain, unfinished, or fragile.

It doesn’t shout. It doesn’t panic. It just exists, like background noise I’ve learned to accept as normal.

For a long time, I thought that voice was telling the truth.

I assumed that if doubt showed up first, it must be important. Like it was trying to help me get ahead of the day. Like it was preparing me for disappointment, or saving me from embarrassment, or protecting me from dreaming too big and falling too hard.

But I’ve started to notice something. Doubt shows up automatically, but truth usually arrives more quietly, and it takes a little longer.

Doubt doesn’t require permission. It just walks in.

And that alone should make us pause.

Doubt is not evidence. It is not intuition. It is not a prophecy. Most of the time, it is fear wearing practical clothing.

Fear likes to pretend it is responsible. It tells us it is just being realistic. It says things like, what if this doesn’t work out, what if you fail, what if you are behind, what if you are wrong.

It frames itself as protection.

And sometimes, especially earlier in life, that protection made sense. Maybe doubt kept you safe in an environment where taking risks was punished. Maybe it helped you stay small enough to survive. Maybe it taught you how to read a room, anticipate moods, or brace yourself for disappointment.

But here is the part we do not talk about enough. Just because a coping mechanism once helped you does not mean it should be running your life forever.

Doubt often lingers long after the danger has passed.

The slow living version of growth is not about eliminating doubt completely. That is unrealistic. It is about recognizing it without handing it the microphone.

Awareness changes everything.

When you begin to notice doubt as a pattern instead of a truth, you gain space. Space to respond instead of react. Space to ask better questions.

Instead of, is this thought true, try asking, where did this come from?

Instead of believing that you are not ready, try noticing that you are scared, and that will make sense.

Fear and doubt love the early morning hours because our defenses are low. We have not yet grounded ourselves in our bodies or the present moment. Our minds are still half dreaming, half bracing for the day.

That is when doubt slips in and starts narrating.

The shift happens when you stop arguing with it and start observing it.

You can say, okay, there you are. I see you.

You do not have to shame it. You do not have to banish it. You do not even have to replace it with toxic positivity.

You just have to remember that doubt is a thought, not a fact.

There is a big difference.

Slow living is not about forcing yourself into confidence. It is about choosing gentleness over self interrogation. It is about understanding that you can hold fear and still move forward.

One of the most freeing realizations is this. Doubt is usually trying to protect you from a version of pain that may never happen.

It is rehearsing worst case scenarios in hopes that if you imagine them enough times, they will hurt less.

But what it often steals in the process is joy, creativity, and presence.

The truth is, you do not actually need that level of protection most days.

You are allowed to trust yourself more than your fear.

You are allowed to believe that you can handle things as they come, instead of pre suffering through every possibility.

When doubt shows up, try this simple shift. Instead of spiraling, ask yourself, what would it sound like if I spoke to myself with curiosity instead of suspicion?

Maybe the thought changes from, I am not doing enough, to, I am doing what I can today.

Maybe it softens from, this will never work, to, I am learning as I go.

These are not lies. They are more complete truths.

Doubt thrives in isolation. It gets louder when we are tired, overwhelmed, or disconnected from our bodies. Slow living invites us back into ourselves.

Back into the present moment.

Back into the understanding that life does not need to be solved before breakfast.

Some days, the most radical thing you can do is notice the doubt, thank it for trying to help, and then choose a different thought on purpose.

Not because you are forcing optimism, but because you are choosing trust.

Trust that you are allowed to grow slowly.

Trust that clarity comes with movement, not before it.

Trust that you do not need to earn peace by proving yourself.

Doubt will probably still be there tomorrow morning. That is okay.

The difference is, you will know who it is.

And when you know something is fear, not truth, it loses its authority.

You do not have to listen to every thought just because it arrives early.

Sometimes the truest voice is the one that speaks after you take a breath.

After you ground yourself.

After you remember that you are already enough to begin.

With love,
SJ

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But, comfort is addictive. It feels safe. It feels good. And if all you chase is comfort, if your main goal becomes avoiding anything that feels hard or challenging, something important starts to slip away. Something subtle. Something that changes the way life actually feels.

I’m talking about growth. Inspiration. That spark of life you feel when you accomplish something, when you push yourself past what you thought you could do, when you do something that scares you and come out the other side thinking, “Wow, I did that!” That feeling does not come from scrolling on your phone. It does not come from bingeing another show. It does not come from finding ways to do less. It comes from effort. From challenge. From stretching yourself.

Let me give you an example. Last week I decided to tackle something I had been avoiding for months. It was stressful, it felt overwhelming, and honestly part of me just wanted to push it off for another day. But I didn’t. I sat down, I worked through it, and by the end of the afternoon, I felt this incredible rush of pride. This glow of accomplishment. It was like I could feel my muscles and my brain thanking me. That feeling is addictive in the right way. It makes you feel alive. And here’s the truth, you cannot get it from comfort alone.

And I know what you are thinking. You are thinking rest is important. Relaxation is important. And yes it is. I am not saying ignore your needs. Rest is essential. Recovery is essential. But here is the kicker. The kind of rest that truly nourishes you comes after you have done something meaningful. Comfort without effort is flat. Growth without effort does not exist.

If you are still reading, this is where it gets really interesting.

Read more

Most of us are rushing from one thing to the next, always waiting for the next big moment to arrive. We save celebration for birthdays, holidays, promotions, or something that feels impressive enough to deserve it. As if ordinary days are just something to get through.

But what about all the little things.

(photo via pinterest)

Every day we wake up is already a reason to celebrate. This life, as messy and imperfect as it is, is still such a gift. And yet we move through it on autopilot, barely pausing long enough to notice we are here at all.

Celebration does not have to be grand. It does not have to be planned or justified.

Sitting on your front porch with a warm cup of coffee you love is a way to celebrate. Dancing in your kitchen to your favorite song is a way to celebrate. Stopping in front of an open window to listen to the birds for a minute is a way to celebrate.

So is going out to dinner and cheersing to another paid subscriber on Substack. So is acknowledging a small win at work. So is marking the end of a long week just because you made it through.

We have been taught to look for the big moments. The milestones. The finish lines. But life is mostly lived in the in between. And when we ignore those moments, we miss our own lives.

Little wins and big wins are equally worthy of being celebrated. One is not more valid than the other. They all deserve to be noticed.

Celebrating life changes the way we experience it. When you pause to celebrate, you are telling your nervous system that you are safe. That there is something good happening right now. That you do not have to keep striving to feel okay.

This is why celebration matters so much for mental health. It pulls you out of survival mode. It grounds you in the present moment. It gives your brain evidence that joy exists here, not just in some future version of your life.

When you celebrate often, you start to feel more connected to your days. You have more to look forward to, even if it is something simple. Your routine becomes something you enjoy instead of something you rush through.

Celebration creates aliveness.

It reminds you that life is not only about productivity or progress. It is about presence. It is about noticing what is good and letting yourself feel it without guilt.

Stop waiting for the big moments to arrive before you let yourself celebrate. Start noticing the little ones that are already here.

This is your life.
And it is happening now.

With love,
SJ

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I’m really glad you’re here! Before we begin, I want to share what this space is becoming. The Slow Living Lane is a place for reflections on mindset, self-help, and living intentionally. Each week, I’ll share thoughts meant to help you slow down, notice what’s around you, and live a life that feels aligned. Sometimes you will read. Sometimes you will listen. Either way, you’re welcome here!

For a long time, I would see people like Mel Robbins or Jay Shetty and think, they have already said it better. Who am I to repeat it? So I stayed quiet.

Maybe you know that feeling.

You learn something that shifts you. A realization that settles into your body. A truth that feels important. And almost immediately, the doubt follows. This has already been said. Someone else has already shared this. I do not have anything new to add.

This week, I heard a sentence that changed how I see all of that.

“Almost nothing is an original thought. So if you feel called to write or talk about something you just learned, do it.”

It stopped me.

Because how many times in your life have you heard something and thought, I have heard this before, but it did not click until now?

I know that has been true for me. The idea was familiar. The words were not new. But I was different. I was finally ready to hear it.

And it made me wonder if the value of an idea is not in being the first to say it, but in being the one who says it at the right time, in the right tone, in a way that feels safe enough to land.

So before we go any further, I want to ask you a few things.

Have you ever felt called to share something, but held back because it felt unoriginal?

Have you ever felt like your voice did not matter because someone louder or more established was already saying the same thing?

Have you ever dismissed your own thoughts because they felt borrowed instead of brand new?

If any of that feels familiar, this next part is for you.

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After taking a few months off, (1st trimester pregnancy iykyk) I was shocked to see how quickly my Substack was growing again.

And I immediately realized one thing:

You can’t achieve your goals if you don’t show up for them.

You won’t wake up and immediately run a marathon, but you will run a marathon when you wake up and run every day.

You won’t wake up to 10,000 subscribers, but you will reach 10,000 subscribers by creating and sharing content daily.

You won’t wake up with a positive mindset, but your mind will become more positive each day that you practice positive thoughts.

We’ve all heard the saying “consistency is key” and while it’s annoying and frankly a lot of work… it’s true.

I am always being shown, in many different areas of my life, that showing up consistently is the number one key to making things grow.

Some days that looks like showing up for 10 minutes and some days that looks like showing up for 10 hours.

You’re proving to yourself and your goal that you care enough to continue to show up day after day.

Whether your goal for the new year is to lose weight, make more money, or become a happier person. It all starts with consistency. You don’t need to focus on the big picture or the end goal. Just focus on what you can do today. Then show up and do that.

Let’s be real, you are most likely not going to want to do any of it! Humans love comfort. Why wake up and go to the gym when you can sleep in? Why set aside time to write and create when you can sit on your phone? Because, your future self will thank you! Start doing things for them. Your now self does not care, because they can’t see the achievements. But your future self is always there, cheering you on.

Have you ever noticed how much happier you are when you wake up and your home is already cleaned? Sure you would have rather gone to bed and cleaned later, but doing it now saved your future self from the burden you would have had to endure.

So set your goals.

Bring them down to actionable, daily steps.

Show up daily.

Next thing you know, your dream becomes a reality.

& please remember consistency doesn’t always look like doing the same thing every day. Maybe one week it’s you showing up daily, and the next week it’s you showing up every other day. That still counts. One day off does not mean you need to restart.

I’ll leave you with one of my favorite books, and a really great podcast to dive into.

My #1 book recommendation (audible version)

My #1 book recommendation (book version)

A podcast for 2026!

Thank you for reading! I hope this helps you with your 2026 goals, you got this!

Much love,

SJ

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