đ¨ The Art of Slowing Down: Why Itâs Hard â And Why Itâs Worth It
Youâve spent your life moving. For others. For deadlines. For everything that needed doing.
And now, when you finally have time to paint, it can feel... strange.
As if your hands donât quite know how to be still.
As if your mind keeps whispering, âShouldnât you be doing something more useful?â
Even when the world quiets around you, that old rhythm of urgency lingers.
But maybe the real question isnât what youâre producing.
Maybe itâs what youâre rediscovering.
đż Why Slowing Down Feels So Unnatural
Itâs not just habitâitâs history.
So many women in their 50s, 60s, 70s and beyond grew up being neededâby children, partners, workplaces, aging parents.
You learned to keep things running. To stay useful. To rarely rest.
Even now, that old voice still murmurs: âYou should be doing more.â
And for artists, thereâs another layerâcomparison.
You scroll through Instagram and see someone painting every day, launching collections, selling out shows.
Meanwhile, your brush hovers mid-air, unsure where to even begin.
But hereâs the quiet truth:
Speed doesnât make your art more valuable.
Presence does.
But slowing down doesnât just challenge your scheduleâit challenges your story.
Many of us were taught that to be valuable, we had to be productive.
But beneath that? We often feel like weâve missed something. Like we started too late. Like everyone else is aheadâmore talented, more visible, more accomplished.
We think itâs greed that drives us.
But as Charlie Munger once said, itâs often envy.
That feeling that someone else has what we couldâve hadâif only weâd started sooner.
But hereâs the gift that comes with age:
You begin to care less about where others are goingâbecause you finally start listening to where you are meant to be.
Slowing down quiets the envy.
It reminds you:
Youâre not behind.
Youâre here.
And thisâthis momentâis where the beauty begins.
⨠What Slowing Down Gives You
When we slow down, something tender happens.
Yes, old fears riseâof being behind, of wasting time, of not having enough time left.
But something else rises, too: Trust.
Trust that your rhythm isnât just okayâitâs sacred.
When you create slowly, you give your art space to breathe.
You notice how the paint settles.
You feel the moment unfold.
You hear your own heart⌠and listen.
Some of the most emotionally powerful paintings on our channel began this wayâ
With a slow walk in the woods.
A quiet sketch at a kitchen table.
A single brushstroke placed with intention.
Slowing down doesnât mean doing less.
It means doing what mattersâmore deeply.
And beyond the art?
It helps you come home to yourself.
Because even nowâespecially nowâyou matter.
Your voice. Your vision. Your peace.
đ§ââď¸ How to Begin
Slowing down doesnât mean stopping.
It just means changing the pace.
Here are a few gentle ways to begin:
⢠Give yourself permission to paint for no reason. No deadlines. No audience. Just you.
⢠Start small. A 10-minute session. One brush. Two colors. No plan.
⢠Choose soft tools. A hake brush. Watercolors. Music that doesnât rush.
⢠Let yourself wander. Some of the best ideas arrive while weeding the garden or folding laundry.
⢠Leave things unfinished. Not everything has to be resolved. Sometimes the story lives in the middle.
So if you're moving slower these daysâitâs not a flaw.
Itâs a season.
And like every season, it carries its own wisdom.
Let it show you what canât be rushed:
Your voice.
Your courage.
Your joy.
đ A Final Thought
Slowing down isnât giving up.
Itâs giving in â To the truth that you were never behind in the first place.
The artist in you isnât fading.
Sheâs just now catching up to her own heartbeat.
Process Art Discovery
đ¨ The Art of Slowing Down: Why Itâs Hard â And Why Itâs Worth It
Youâve spent your life moving. For others. For deadlines. For everything that needed doing.
And now, when you finally have time to paint, it can feel... strange.
As if your hands donât quite know how to be still.
As if your mind keeps whispering, âShouldnât you be doing something more useful?â
Even when the world quiets around you, that old rhythm of urgency lingers.
But maybe the real question isnât what youâre producing.
Maybe itâs what youâre rediscovering.
đż Why Slowing Down Feels So Unnatural
Itâs not just habitâitâs history.
So many women in their 50s, 60s, 70s and beyond grew up being neededâby children, partners, workplaces, aging parents.
You learned to keep things running. To stay useful. To rarely rest.
Even now, that old voice still murmurs: âYou should be doing more.â
And for artists, thereâs another layerâcomparison.
You scroll through Instagram and see someone painting every day, launching collections, selling out shows.
Meanwhile, your brush hovers mid-air, unsure where to even begin.
But hereâs the quiet truth:
Speed doesnât make your art more valuable.
Presence does.
But slowing down doesnât just challenge your scheduleâit challenges your story.
Many of us were taught that to be valuable, we had to be productive.
But beneath that? We often feel like weâve missed something. Like we started too late. Like everyone else is aheadâmore talented, more visible, more accomplished.
We think itâs greed that drives us.
But as Charlie Munger once said, itâs often envy.
That feeling that someone else has what we couldâve hadâif only weâd started sooner.
But hereâs the gift that comes with age:
You begin to care less about where others are goingâbecause you finally start listening to where you are meant to be.
Slowing down quiets the envy.
It reminds you:
Youâre not behind.
Youâre here.
And thisâthis momentâis where the beauty begins.
⨠What Slowing Down Gives You
When we slow down, something tender happens.
Yes, old fears riseâof being behind, of wasting time, of not having enough time left.
But something else rises, too: Trust.
Trust that your rhythm isnât just okayâitâs sacred.
When you create slowly, you give your art space to breathe.
You notice how the paint settles.
You feel the moment unfold.
You hear your own heart⌠and listen.
Some of the most emotionally powerful paintings on our channel began this wayâ
With a slow walk in the woods.
A quiet sketch at a kitchen table.
A single brushstroke placed with intention.
Slowing down doesnât mean doing less.
It means doing what mattersâmore deeply.
And beyond the art?
It helps you come home to yourself.
Because even nowâespecially nowâyou matter.
Your voice. Your vision. Your peace.
đ§ââď¸ How to Begin
Slowing down doesnât mean stopping.
It just means changing the pace.
Here are a few gentle ways to begin:
⢠Give yourself permission to paint for no reason. No deadlines. No audience. Just you.
⢠Start small. A 10-minute session. One brush. Two colors. No plan.
⢠Choose soft tools. A hake brush. Watercolors. Music that doesnât rush.
⢠Let yourself wander. Some of the best ideas arrive while weeding the garden or folding laundry.
⢠Leave things unfinished. Not everything has to be resolved. Sometimes the story lives in the middle.
So if you're moving slower these daysâitâs not a flaw.
Itâs a season.
And like every season, it carries its own wisdom.
Let it show you what canât be rushed:
Your voice.
Your courage.
Your joy.
đ A Final Thought
Slowing down isnât giving up.
Itâs giving in â To the truth that you were never behind in the first place.
The artist in you isnât fading.
Sheâs just now catching up to her own heartbeat.
What has slowing down given you?
3 months ago (edited) | [YT] | 3