There has been a shift lately. Maybe you’ve felt it too.
A desire to step away from the constant noise - to put the phone down, take back a little time, and become more intentional about what fills our minds.
It’s so easy to get pulled in.
A quick scroll becomes twenty minutes. One story leads to another. Advertisements seem to know exactly what we were just thinking about.
A subscription here.
An app there.
A new supplement.
A promise to solve a problem we didn’t even know we had.
Before long, we’re inundated.
The news, the notifications, the opinions, the endless stream of things to watch, buy and consider. So much of life seems to happen through a screen, and honestly, it can feel exhausting.
Lately, I’ve been noticing more and more people talking about stepping away from social media, taking their time back, and being more intentional about what they allow into their minds.
And it makes sense.
To make a little room for quiet again.
To stop reaching for the phone every time there is a free moment.
To give the mind a little breathing room.
And maybe, in that space, return to some of the things that have always made us feel grounded.
Stepping outside. Feeling the breeze. Inhaling the morning air.
Taking a walk and noticing what is growing along the way.
Talking to a neighbor. Smiling and waving to someone passing by.
There is something wonderful about these small, ordinary things. They bring us back to ourselves.
And perhaps this is part of why we’re drawn to old things.
We’re craving the same things we’re drawn to when we collect old things: simplicity, familiarity, quality. Things made to last. Things that don’t constantly demand our attention.
A worn book. An old wooden table. A piece of ironstone. A vase that has held flowers for generations.
There is comfort in things that have already lived a life.
And maybe we’re craving some of that feeling in our own lives, too.
So many of the things that bring us back to ourselves are things we did naturally as children or before life became so filled with technology.
We read books.
We drew pictures.
We played outside.
We picked flowers.
We took walks.
We talked to our neighbors.
We wrote letters.
There was more room to simply be.
Maybe we aren’t longing to go backward.
Maybe we’re just longing for some of the feelings we had then.
A little more quiet.
A little more presence.
A little more attention to the people and places right in front of us.
A little less coming in.
A little more life being noticed.
That’s where the real things are.
And maybe, that’s where a little extra joy is waiting too.
-Lori
