One month of slowing down

When things finally start to click

When we moved to our new home, one of the first things I said to Ben was “I can’t wait for you to experience fall here.” Having grown up in the area, I was well acquainted with the transformation that this nook of New Jersey goes through beginning in October, but I was excited to experience them anew through his eyes.

Every day, we wake up and notice the little changes. Ben gets home from his jog and tells me how much more golden and deep red the trees on his route have become. Every weekend, we head to the farmer’s market and I fill my basket with the most gorgeous vegetables — jewel-like eggplants, clusters of steel-blue oyster mushrooms, kale bunches that are the size of banana palms. My farm stand has cider donuts, and we’re becoming familiar with the winding back roads that get us home to avoid the traffic of the leaf peepers from the city. We’re bedding down, and nesting, and making plans for construction in the new year. The change of pace I craved when we left Brooklyn seems to have finally begun to click.

My goal for the month of October was to figure out how to cultivate a bit more peace in my life. It’s an intention I feel like I’ve set for myself each month for the past few years with little-to-no follow-through. But this time, it was different. I hit a serious wall in my depression last month, and I think that was finally the motivator I needed to implement the small, incremental changes I truly needed. And (knock wood) I think I may have cracked it.

I wrote about this briefly in my mini letter, but about four weeks ago I gave up drinking coffee — something I’ve tried and failed at multiple times in my life. But after a particularly stressful day at work, I noticed that there was a striking similarity between the feeling I got when I was about to blow my stack to the feeling I got after having a cup of coffee. In those moments, it’s as if I’ve been hooked up to a car battery. I can physically feel the anxiety and adrenaline coursing through my veins. So I figured it might be time to cut down on my caffeine intake.

Turns out, I’m a lot less anxious when I swap out my two morning Americanos for a cup or two of Lady Grey with a splash of cream. My head feels clearer. I have better focus. And I find myself better able to deal with whatever stressful pitch life tosses my way. In a therapy session, I even admitted that I finally am starting to believe we’ll eventually get pregnant — something that seemed completely impossible just two months ago.

This breakup with caffeine has been coupled with another breakup — between me and my phone. Jay Shetty put it in a way that made sense to me. “You would never wake up and let 100 people into your bedroom before you showered, brushed your teeth, and put on makeup,” he said in an interview with Real Simple. “But when you look at your phone first thing in the morning, you’re letting 100 people into your mind.” I’d already started this pulling away over the summer, when I went through my accounts and muted all of the people whose scrapbook version of a perfect life made me feel bad. But even then, I still felt myself sucked in first thing, comparing myself, and then spending the rest of the day spiraling over how far behind I felt.

So I started putting my phone to bed at 9 PM, keeping it in my office overnight instead of at my bedside. I wake up between 5:15 and 5:30 AM most mornings, and I try to not look at my phone for at least an hour. Instead, I go downstairs, make myself some tea, and read. Not only does it help me to start my morning in a way that feels more calm, but I am straight up burning through the books on my shelves. But I’m also finding that there aren’t so many negative voices in my head anymore. I don’t feel myself looking over my shoulder, wondering whether or not someone is keeping score.

I know what you’re thinking — none of this seems revolutionary. These are some simple swaps that every influencer on Instagram has waxed poetic about. But truly, they have made such a difference for me. I have never taken the time to cultivate slowness, and to luxuriate in caring for myself. Depressingly, it’s a really revolutionary thing for me to have discovered at 35. But pausing, and reflecting, and putting my needs first has been the joy of my days over the past month. I wish I’d uncovered it sooner.

I’ve often spoken about this compulsion I have to find a lesson in every bit of struggle. It’s like I can’t imagine going through even a second of hardship if there isn’t some kind of teaching to come out of it. I’m beginning to wonder if, just maybe, I’m being put through this fertility struggle in order to learn to do this incredibly basic thing — care for myself. Consider my needs first. To pause and decide what feels good for me, or what I might need. Not consulting friends, or family, or Google, or my tarot cards. Just sitting with myself and truly listening.

I used to fear that I was never going to have the privilege of motherhood because I would be bad at it — probably because I knew I was in such a deficit of self-care, and that it would be hard to model good, caring behavior to a child if I didn’t know how to do it myself. So maybe I’m finally on the path to understanding that karmic lesson.

But in the meantime, this is my life. It’s each moment that ticks away. It’s not a practice run. It’s happening right now. And so instead of wishing that things were a different way, my focus is doing the best with what I have. So I’ll continue to drink tea instead of coffee, and unplug while most of the world is getting ready to go out. I’ll fill my basket with delicious things, and watch the leaves change, and go on walks with my husband. I’ll prioritize the moments of peace in my day above all else. Because really, at the end of the day, I’m realizing that this is all that there is.