I’ve always been the kind of person who knows that life is made up of small moments – I get this from my Dad. The way sunlight casts shadows on the ground in the late afternoon. The sound of my kids’ laughter drifting in from another room. The quiet satisfaction of finishing something with your hands. I believe in noticing those things, and in savoring them.
I just don’t always do it.
Life has a way of filling up the space between intention and action. Schedules, responsibilities, the constant pull toward what’s next – it all adds up. I don’t want to be someone who appreciates the idea of slowing down more than the practice of it.
That’s what made picking up “The Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down” feel less like starting a new book and more like returning to something I quietly misplaced.
Instead of reading this book quickly and moving on, I made a simple plan: one chapter a week. No rushing, no skimming. Just one chapter. Then, at the end of each chapter, I choose one or two of the short passages and read them every day – usually in the morning, sometimes again at night. Just a few lines, but enough to settle into.
And then I try to live them.
Each week has become its own gentle focus. One week might be about patience, another about mindfulness, another about relationships or rest. I don’t treat it like a rulebook. It’s more like a quiet suggestion I carry with me throughout the day.
What’s surprised me most is how subtle the changes are – and how meaningful.
I find myself pausing more often. Not in big, dramatic ways, but in small ones. I notice when I’m rushing for no reason. I catch myself before filling silence with distraction. I linger a little longer in moments that used to pass by unnoticed. It’s not perfect. Some days I forget completely. But then the next morning, I read a passage again, and it gently brings me back.
That repetition – the daily return to just a few thoughtful words – has become a kind of rhythm. It’s not overwhelming. It’s not another thing to accomplish. It’s simply an invitation to pay attention.
And slowly, the progression of the book starts to feel like a progression in my own life.
I’m not just reading about slowing down – I’m practicing it. I’m experiencing what it means to actually be present instead of thinking about being present. And there’s a quiet kind of joy in that. A feeling that life isn’t something happening somewhere else, later on, but right here in the ordinary moments I don’t want to overlook.
What I’ve come to appreciate is that this book doesn’t ask for anything dramatic. It doesn’t require a complete life overhaul. It simply offers a different way of seeing – and if you let it – a different way of being.
And the more I lean into it, the more I realize how much there is to enjoy that I used to rush past.
It turns out, I was right all along about the importance of the little things.
I just needed to slow down enough to actually live them.
Have you read this book? Leave a comment below and let me know what you think – I’d love to hear your perspective!
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