Slowmaxxing and long-form living

How to take your time this summer.

Something about summer makes me hazy. The heat makes me feel tired, my brain slowly melting into a pool of nothingness. It’s also incredibly beautiful - the colours, the hope, the salt air. Even being woken by seagulls at 5am feels poetic.

People are so much more content - you see smiles everywhere you go with lots of “isn’t this lovely?!” chats over the counter as you purchase a double-scoop mint ice-cream.

It makes me think of one summer a few years ago, when my kids were still small. I had two kids under two, and had been building a coaching business on the side during maternity leave.

But at some point, I became burned out from trying to ‘do it all’ - I was overwhelmed, exhausted and uninspired.

My brain craved the stimulation and the mental challenge of having a creative outlet but it was also crammed full of lists and responsibilities that came with having young kids. Things like ‘don’t forget World Book Day’ or ‘we’ve used the last of the toilet roll’ were competing with my latest idea for a book.

I decided to take the summer off social media - which doesn’t sound revolutionary. But as somebody who had been trying to build a business for a few years and posted pretty much every day, it terrified me.

The pressure to show up and post like everything was going great(!!!) when it really wasn’t - felt too much of a burden to bear. I was spending more time creating content than I was being present with my kids.

But most of all, I think what I was scared of most - was facing my kids.

Of looking at my dream of being a mum in the eyes and witnessing a failure looking back. Kids are like mirrors I’ve learned - always reflecting back our shadows, fears and forgotten dreams.

I relished in the distraction of social media and my business because secretly I felt like that was one thing I was doing well. Parenting? I felt like every step I made was a mistake, one that I would pay for when my kids were in therapy one day.

I couldn’t bear the thought of knowing that the biggest dream, the only thing I’ve ever wanted (to be a mum) was gifted to me, and some days I wanted to hand it back. Not forever, just for a little while. Just so that I could lie down and breathe.

So I stayed distracted, finding my confidence in my creativity instead.

Until I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I deleted Instagram from my phone and I surrendered.

For the whole summer, I just focused on being present with my kids - which sounds so simple. Experts tell us all the time ‘you only have x amount of summers with your kids - ENJOY THEM!!!!!’ I spent slow days at home, dipping our toes in paddling pools. We went on long walks down the beach.

We played, we cried, we connected.

Without the distractions of social media and business-building, I was forced to face my fears. The fear that I wasn’t good enough as a mum. The fear that my dreams of being a writer would never come true. The fear that parenting would swallow me whole.

Over time, I learned how to make peace with them. I found parts of myself again. The good parts, the hidden parts and the parts I’d rather not see. By the end of it, I felt so at peace. Our family was more connected, my nervous system was more regulated, our pace of life was slower and I felt more joyful.

We focused on what really mattered, and more good stuff grew.

I also sought help - realising that maybe there was more to my challenges than just being an ‘overwhelmed mum.’ I went to the GP who referred me for an ADHD diagnosis and I started seeing a therapist.

The recent summer days have reminded me of this truly transformational summer and how it changed me for the better. I learned so much about myself - what I wanted, what I didn’t want and the type of life that I was made for. A slow, intentional, peaceful, connected, creative life.

But as soon as I logged back on to social media, that rush of information pulled me straight back in almost automatically.

Almost immediately I could feel time moving quickly again, my mind deceiving me into thinking that I was running out of time. That I’d wasted a whole 6 weeks when I could have been building something bigger.

What can be bigger than my children? I don’t know.

What I learned that summer was this - we live in a microwave culture that encourages us to seek quick-fixes, whip up 5-minute meals and make 10K in one month through hustle, burnout and convenience.

‘Slowmaxxing’ is a new popular term for wanting to drag the pleasure and joy out of every moment possible. It’s about a slower way of living - doing less, but doing it deeply.

It’s about actually enjoying life, experiencing it and not just producing or fixing our way through to the next goal. I don’t want to endure life, I want to experience it. I don’t want to fly through life, I want to feel it.

Summer is the perfect time to surrender to slowness. To strip back the layers of life like we do our clothes when the heat gets too stifling.

To eat oranges outside and spend long nights talking with friends over peach iced tea .

It’s a reminder that long-form living exists in the age of short-form content and an overwhelm of information that wants to keep us distracted.

It’s a calling for patience.

That the things worth having - the goals, the lifestyle, the relationships, the family - are all worth your time and effort. They’re worth feeling more, connecting more, creating more. They might take longer, but the end result will be what you want - not a watered down version of it.

This summer I’ll be practicing just that - less screen time, more slowness. More long, lazy days. More rest, creativity and connection.

If we’re not in the present moment, we’re leaving it behind.

And I’m not ready for that. I may not be where I want to be yet with my goals, but the messy house, the noise, the long days - this is what I prayed for 7 years ago when I first looked at that positive pregnancy test.

That version of me deserves to enjoy this, and deliciously drag it out as long as I can.