I’m writing this from the family farm, where life encourages us to slow down—to share meals together, marvel at the birds gliding over the fields, and watch the cows lazily snack on grass. But it wasn’t always this way.

A humingbird moth enjoying sunflowers growing on the farm. A very rare but happy sighting!

When I was growing up, our very survival depended on unpredictable weather and the success of our harvest. Feeding both the family and the animals meant constant work. As a kid, I always had multiple jobs: student and farm girl, then student and farm girl and soft-serve ice cream maker. I watched neighbors and family members juggle two full-time jobs, pouring every ounce of energy into work. We were healthy, we were flourishing—but in many ways, we were also missing life as it passed by.

At the time, I thought this was just the farmer’s way of life. But now, with more perspective, I see that it’s the world’s way of life. A world that thrives on “go, go, go,” “earn, earn, earn,” and “achieve, achieve, achieve.” We run on hamster wheels, chasing goals that never seem to satisfy, always believing fulfillment is just one more achievement away.

The mud nest of a Mud Dauber Wasp found on the farm. One of the cells was still wet meaning we had recently interrupted its construction.

This culture values fast. Fast food, fast profits, fast responses. If it isn’t done quickly, we risk a missed opportunity, a promotion, or even a job. And when layoffs come, they’re framed as “not being fired”—as if that softens the blow. Meanwhile, we’ve skipped family dinners, missed birthdays, and told ourselves it was all worth it. But was it?

Lately, I’ve been holding onto a different word: slow. At first, it can feel like a bad word when you’re used to running fast. But I’ve learned that slowing down isn’t weakness—it’s essential. It’s what allows me to keep going, to breathe, and to notice life happening around me.

My new toad friend, George. He lives at the farm and joined me for gardening.

Sometimes slowing down looks like just a few seconds at the bird feeder, or pausing between emails to watch a squirrel leap from one tree branch to another. Longer moments come in the garden—planting, watering, or simply noticing how weeds sprout just as eagerly as flowers bloom. My favorite days are when I work outside on the patio, taking breaks between tasks to smile at a chipmunk scampering by or a squirrel dining at our tiny squirrel-sized picnic table.

A neighbor approaching the squirrel picnic table. I was unfortunately too slow to enjoy that bunch of grapes myself. Well not from the picnic table but from my table lol. Follow the critters that visit the table at @pgh.critter.cam

These small, slow, beautiful moments fuel me. They remind me that life isn’t only about the running—it’s about the noticing.

I hope you’re finding your own small, slow moments too.

With much love,

Erica

The Beauty of Slow