The Simple Life Was Never Meant to Be Complicated

The Simple Life Was Never Meant to Be Complicated - Winterberry Hearth

A Simple Life Isn't Something You Have to Earn

So many people believe that living a simple life means cutting people off, rearranging your entire life, decluttering everything you own, and changing everything at once.

But honestly, that can create more chaos and that isn't what we're looking for.

Living a simple life doesn't require you to blow up the life you already have. Sometimes, it simply means knowing when to put something down. It means making room for the things you love, allowing yourself to slow down, and realizing that not everything deserves your time, energy, or attention.

We've grown so accustomed to all the noise in the background. We're moving at a rate of speed we can't possibly sustain while trying to keep up with friends, family, neighbors, and people we've never even met.

And somewhere along the way, we started believing that everyone else was doing life better than we were.

We Are Comparing Our Lives to Glimpses

Over the last six years, I've watched people try to live vicariously through a 30-second reel, a 20-minute podcast, or a carefully chosen photograph showing only what a creator wants us to see.

What we often don't see is everything that happened before that moment.

We don't see the months or sometimes years of hard work behind the finished product. We don't see the failed attempts, the messy kitchen, the financial investment, the exhaustion, the self-doubt, or the dozen things that didn't work before the one thing finally did.

And sometimes, what we're seeing isn't even a true reflection of someone's everyday life. A carefully framed camera angle, a filter, an edited video, or a green screen can make a life look effortless, organized, peaceful, and complete.

Then we look around at our own very real lives and wonder why ours doesn't look the same.

So, we chase things.

We start projects we never finish. We buy things we don't really need. We rearrange our homes because someone else's looked prettier. We fill our schedules because everyone else seems busy and productive. We keep reaching for the next thing because we've been convinced that what we already have isn't enough.

Eventually, we're exhausted from trying to create a life that may not have been ours to begin with.

Simple Living Doesn't Have to Look Perfect

A slow, simple life isn't about biting off more than you can chew or spending countless dollars and hours trying to make everything perfect.

In fact, I think it's quite the opposite.

Maybe the perfect life is decorating your home according to what feels good to you, even if it isn't what's currently trending.

Maybe it's looking at a sink full of dishes and deciding they can wait while you pour yourself a cup of tea, grab a cozy blanket, and read a few chapters of your book.

Maybe it's choosing one room or even one little corner of a room—and turning it into a retreat. A place where you can find a little peace and solace from the busy, often hectic world around you.

Maybe it's finally learning to say, "That can wait."

Not because you've become irresponsible or stopped caring, but because you've realized that your time matters, too. Time spent with yourself is just as valuable as time spent doing for everyone else or checking another tedious task off a never-ending list.

Slow Living Is Found in Ordinary Things

Slow living can be planting a garden.

It's saying no when the world makes you feel as though you should always say yes.

It's mixing your own herbs and pouring yourself a hot cup of tea simply because you enjoy the ritual of making it.

It's kneading a loaf of bread because you'd rather make it with your own hands.

It's opening the windows when the weather finally cools, lighting a candle while you clean the kitchen, sitting on the porch a little longer than necessary, or making a meal that reminds you of someone you love.

And sometimes, it's folding a red blanket over a blanket ladder because the color reminds you of the peace, warmth, and joy of Christmas.

These things aren't impressive.
They probably won't make anyone stop scrolling.
But that's exactly the point.

A meaningful life doesn't have to be impressive to anyone watching it. It simply has to feel meaningful to the person living it.

Give Yourself Somewhere to Linger

Slow living shouldn't be complicated. Complicating it would defeat the entire purpose of creating a softer, simpler life.

Start with somewhere to linger.

Maybe it's a snug recliner beside a window overlooking the trees. Maybe it's a chair on the porch, your favorite journal beside the bed, a little garden you've been tending, or a kitchen table where the kettle is almost always warm.

These are the places that invite us to slow down.
They bring us back to center.
They remind us to look up.

We weren't created to spend our entire lives keeping up with the Joneses. We weren't meant to be so busy that we forget ourselves. And we certainly weren't meant to rush through our days so quickly that we never notice the beauty happening right in front of us.

There will always be another load of laundry.
Another email.
Another project.
Another thing that needs cleaning.
Another person doing something bigger, prettier, faster, or seemingly better.

Let them.
You don't have to chase it.


Come Back to Your Own Life

Today, take a walk on the beach or beside a lake.

If that's not possible, walk around your backyard.

Sit beneath a tree and tell it your secrets, your hurts, your hopes, and your wishes. Breathe in the scent of freshly cut grass. Pick up a rock and notice its shape, its colors, and the tiny lines that took years to form.

Watch the birds.
Listen to the wind.
Stand outside as the sun begins to set and, for once, don't reach for your phone.
Just be there.
Remember who you are.
Remember what you love.

Remember the things you once enjoyed before you became so busy trying to keep up with everything and everyone around you.

Because maybe slow living isn't about creating an entirely new life.

Maybe it's about finally slowing down long enough to return to the one that was yours all along.

And perhaps that's where the simplest life begins not by changing everything, but by noticing what was already worth keeping.