Learning to Slow Down… and Listen

I’m starting to like my slow mornings.

That’s something I never thought I would say.

For so many years, mornings meant rushing—getting ready for a full day of clients, mentally preparing for everything that had to be done, and stepping into a schedule that rarely had room to breathe. Now, things are different. Slower. Quieter.

And if I’m being honest… a little uncomfortable too.

There are still moments I feel like a bum for not jumping up and being productive every second. That feeling doesn’t just go away after 40+ years of working nonstop. It’s deeply ingrained.

But yesterday reminded me why I need this season.

I spent time decluttering and cleaning my kitchen—something that had been put off for far too long. It felt good to accomplish it, but my body definitely had something to say about it. Up and down a step ladder, reaching, bending… today my calves are sore, my shoulder is aching, and I’m still waking up with that familiar back and shoulder pain.

This morning, my cat decided 6:45 was a perfectly reasonable time to start the day—whether I agreed or not. So, I got up. By 9:30, I was dressed, had breakfast, and already had laundry going.

And that’s when I realized… maybe this is enough.

Maybe being productive doesn’t have to mean running myself into the ground.

Today I plan to go help my son—do some laundry, vacuum, and tidy up. Tomorrow? I might take a “me day.” Or I might check on my mom and see if she needs anything. That’s the season I’m in right now—flexible, present, available.

And healing.

The Question That Won’t Go Away

Yesterday, my husband and I had a long conversation about something that’s been on my heart…

Going back to work. Just a little.

Maybe opening a small room and seeing clients one day a week.

He’s not thrilled about it, but he said I could.

The truth is… I’m not sure myself.

I miss it. I really do.

I miss doing what I love. I miss my clients. I miss the work that I know I’m good at—and the level of care I provided. I know, without a doubt, that the sanitation, the education, and the medical awareness I brought into my work isn’t something that’s easy to find.

And that weighs on me.

I feel like I’m doing my town a disservice by not offering something I know is needed—especially when I’m one of the only medically trained nail technicians in this area.

But at the same time…

I am not well.

And I have to be honest about that too.

Where I Am Right Now

I’m 60 years old.

I’ve worked for 41 years.

That’s a lifetime of giving, showing up, pushing through, and putting others first.

Now I’m standing in a place where I have to ask:

What does taking care of me look like?

I thought about working just one day a week—maybe 10:00 to 4:00. Simple. Manageable. Just three clients.

But even that comes with questions…

What happens when someone says they really need me?

What happens when my schedule fills up with standing appointments every four weeks?

What happens when I can’t say no?

Because if I’m being honest, that’s something I’ve struggled with my entire career.

Finding the Balance

Right now, I don’t have all the answers.

I’m learning to sit in the in-between.

To rest without guilt (or at least… less guilt).

To listen to my body.

To take care of my home, my family, and myself in ways I haven’t been able to in years.

And maybe, just maybe…

There’s a way to do a little of what I love without going back to what broke me.

But I’m not rushing that decision.

For now, I’m going to enjoy my slow mornings.

And I’m going to remind myself…

Rest is not laziness.
Healing is not wasted time.

It’s necessary.

And maybe this season is exactly what I need.