For years, I've slowed down the pace of life. This slowing down may have been due to circumstances beyond my control, but it was also motivated by a mature, personal reflection that came after asking myself several questions: What do I want in life? What makes me happy? Are things important, or are people important? Am I happy with what I have, with who I am?
After gaining clarity on these answers, I realized that life isn't a whole, but rather each second, minute, and instant, and that to feel good, I must invest my time in the things I love, enjoy, and that are good for me.
I won’t deny that in my youth I was very easily manipulated and let myself be swayed by other people’s ideas of happiness, but when I realized—even if it sounds cliché—that I am the protagonist of my own story, I began to do only what resonates with my soul. That “carefree” attitude has brought me complaints, enemies, and even absurd judgments, but what matters to me is that before trying to please others, I want to please myself. My commitment is to myself.
That’s why, every day, I like to sip my coffee slowly, without rushing, without burning my mouth by drinking it too quickly. It’s my moment of stillness, of waking up, of finding myself. That first cup of coffee in the morning is a grounding force that oils all the engines inside me. Drinking coffee is a habit that isolates me, but strangely, it also connects me to others, and for me, it’s sacred.
Walking barefoot has become a daily pleasure. Far from the norm that says we must wear shoes, I find touching the ground with my bare feet to be an act of liberation and healing. For someone like me who works outside the home and dresses and shoes formally, shedding these clothes is like shedding a suit of armor. At home, in front of my loved ones, I give myself permission to be whoever I want to be. If my bare feet make you uncomfortable: the problem isn’t mine—it’s yours.
In a world that revolves around time, around the speed with which we do things, I have decided to do 5 things, but to live them 100%; I prefer that to trying to live 100 things at 25%. I recognize what is essential and important, what can wait, and what I have no interest in experiencing. At my age, I savor every moment. And I myself am a planet with my own unique rhythm. I don’t orbit around others, nor do I like others orbiting around me. That independence has taught me that happiness in life isn’t found in our surroundings, but in what you’re capable of doing from within.
In short, I value my silence—the kind that comes when my mind is free of noise—and I help others appreciate it too. I value stillness, which allows me to pause and reflect. I value solitude, which I fill with the people and things I cherish and enjoy. I value the simplicity of a kind, gentle gesture, a friendly word, or a comforting hug. That is my life, and it is sacred to me.
