It’s been a quiet week. I had surgery recently — just a day before my birthday — and for the first week, I couldn’t do much more than rest and think. Which, as it turns out, can be more confronting than any to-do list.

Everything slowed down…..My body, my time, my whole life.
Meals became simple, almost mechanical. The same “safe” food every day : low-fat and “ingredient”-less. It did its job, but something was missing: flavour, colour, life.

I’m not going to get too deep into the “good old days” talk, or how much life has changed lately. But is it just me, or has food (talking about vegetable, fruits and meat from supermarket) itself become dull? It’s lost its flavours, even its old textures. Everything feels a bit too “clean”, too processed, too… same.

Yesterday was the first day I actually woke up with enough strength to leave the room for a bit. Alongside the excitement of finally getting out, I also felt this small urge to do something differently- to skip the usual supermarket run and visit a little farm shop instead. I was so grateful to finally feel well enough for a short drive with my family. Nothing fancy, just a small trip there but it made a huge difference. It added a spark of “life” back into my recovering days.

After a week in a room that felt like I’d been there for a month, stepping outside was like walking into a new world. How is it that the trees had already turned half their leaves to yellow and red? And what happened to the air? Was it always like this : fresh soil and rainy leaves, misty, earthy, almost alive?
I felt like my senses got an adrenaline rush.

Inside the shop, everything was bursting with shape and character. Huge pumpkins, fresh carrots with a little soil still clinging to them, palm-sized mushrooms …

The pears actually had a scent. None were identical in size or colour, and that imperfection felt like a relief. The people were kind, the whole shop was filled with chatter, and the place was exactly what I needed.

On the way out, I noticed the cows by the fence, slowly moving, minding their own business. I realised in my own “slowly life”, how much I’ve been craving real things. Things with meaningful stories with perfectly imperfect character. And it made me start thinking about everything else too.
What’s actually essential in my life? What’s just noise or habit or filler? Something that’s only here because it’s convenient.. What is it in my life that feels like supermarket food?

This surgery, as inconvenient as it felt, has quietly become a “reset button”.It’s made me want to rethink everything : how I eat, how I create, how I move through each day. Less noise, more intention.

If you know me, you know I’ve been chasing minimalism for a while (not quite there yet, but always working toward it). But now, I’ve realised it’s not about having less for the sake of less, it’s about keeping what matters deeply. The things that feed my soul: the REAL, good food, handmade pieces, and the quiet walks that make you feel like yourself again.

In my jewellery work- the way I collect sea glass – already reflects that. I don’t bring home every piece I find, I choose the ones that truly speak to me. So bringing that same kind of intention into other parts of my life feels like my next goal. Maybe that’s what this season is about anyway: choosing with care, not with impulse. Not in a rush, but leaving enough time to enjoy it entirely, to choose with care, and to leave enough space to really see what’s in front of me.

Anyway, that’s where I’m at. Slowing down, figuring things out, trying not to rush it…
I am now got back into my room. I still have a few quiet, slow days/weeks ahead of me while I fully recover.  Tonight I’ll probably make a cup of tea, sit by the window for a while, and just watch the light fade….

Wherever you are, I hope you find a little moment to just be this week. Thanks for stopping by, it really means a lot.

Sending you love,