pretty. darn. slow.
or: a love letter to the other side of success.
Confession, i’m sitting down to write this on my first day without a job. No group chats. No inbox. No calendar invitations from people i’ve never met. Just a quiet house in a tiny Cotswold village, a little early June sunlight, and the slightly anxious feeling i’ve opted out of something really important.
Except… maybe i haven’t opted out. Maybe i’ve opted in to something else instead.
This is ANTiPODE, after all. A place for turning things upside down. For standing on the edge of the map and walking in the opposite direction to what everyone expects. For living contrarily, on purpose.
This is what contrary looked like on day one:
A tray of roasted veggies* hot out of the oven.
A hole in a sock i hope to mend.
Meredith, my sourdough starter, getting all gassy on top of the kitchen cupboard.
A new rhythm, slower than i’ve been used to lately, quieter than i imagined.
Let me be clear: i haven’t retired. i haven’t opted out of work. i’ve just opted out of the regular version of it, the version that celebrates speed over creative thought.
i’m still working. In fact, i’ve never felt more captivated by what comes next. i’m now working for myself, as a brand storyteller and content strategist. Helping thoughtful people tell better stories, in both words and pictures. Telling my own story too. Less about productivity, more about purpose.
i’m not chasing corporate bunny titles anymore (though if you’re reading this, Amelie; high five to us).
Right now i’m measuring success in a whole different way. In words written, yes. Of pictures taken and edited, also yes. But in loaves baked too, in things repaired, in time spent unhurried. In exhales.
Backstory:
Way back in the creeping winter of 2016, i went on a frigid walk and came up with a little idea i called Pretty Darn Slow. It captured what i felt were my core values, the way i wanted to live. It felt the antithesis of stress (to which i am allergic, i swear). Over time, it evolved into a bunch of workshops, part practical and part poetic, focused on frugality, repair, forgotten crafts, and slow living. Pretty for aesthetics. Darn for thrift. Slow for... everything that isn’t fast.
i held them in borrowed studios and village halls, sometimes i even squeezed them into my home. People brought their mending, their urge to craft, their curiosity. We learned, we talked, we made do. Not because it was cool but because it was necessary, and good, and a little bit radical.
Then the pandemic hit, and the in-person bit got vetoed. But the concept stayed with me, quietly lurking in the background as i returned to deadlines, performance reviews, and the odd existential crisis while sitting at a boardroom table.
Until now.
Because now i’m returning to Pretty Darn Slow; not as a workshop, but as a way of living. Not as a side project, but as the whole project.
Meredith is alive again, bubbling on the kitchen cupboard like she never doubted i would be back. She’s feeding me now, and keeping time more honestly than any calendar app ever could.
tbh, i’m not just doing this for the creativity, or the calm. i’m doing it for my head, my heart and my whole self. Literally.
i recently got a quiet but urgent nudge from the doctor. A routine health check disclosed an important reminder that dad had a heart attack at 39 (hi, dad 👋🏻). But also that mum’s dad died of the same when he was only 43. Genetics aren’t fate, but blood test results prove they’re not fiction either.
There’s another fasting blood test in a couple of days, and my caffeine-addicted head is already dreading the headache. But i’m listening and i’m paying attention. Not just to my inbox but to my body (and to the NHS, because there is so. much. NHS. rn).
It’s unnerving, this slowing down. It invites questions i used to drown out with work must-dos. But it also creates space: for creativity, for clarity, and for choices i get to make with my whole self, not just my work self.
So i’m leaning in. Not to hustle or retirement, but to my own rhythm: to work with soul in it, to life with heart in it.
Pretty Darn Slow: 6 tiny tips
Make soup on Monday.
Start the week on a simmer. Use what you already have. Use what needs using up.Mend something by hand.
A hole in a sock. A missing button. It doesn’t need to be perfect, it just needs to last.Plan your meals backwards.
Look in the fridge first, let what you’ve got figure out what you eat.Sit and do nothing for ten minutes.
No phone. No multitasking. Just sit and see what shows up.Unsubscribe from something you don’t need.
An email list. An app subscription. A recurring delivery of razor heads from Estrid.Walk without your phone.
i’ve written this before, but do it. Let your thoughts catch up, it’s where the magic happens.
ANTiPODE.
noun.
the exact opposite or contrary.
It literally means the opposite. The counterpoint.
In my bones, it feels like that’s where i’m at: not to escape, but to live differently. Not against ambition, but toward a better kind of life. One with a good heart, and slowness, and a sourdough starter called Meredith (obvs, iykyk).
Spend less. Earn less. Waste nothing.
Make things last. Make time matter.
Start again, quietly. On purpose.
Pretty. Darn. Slow.
Love,
Lyss. x
*a whole butternut squash, a couple of smallish sweet potatoes, one courgette, a single red pepper and a whole aubergine. Add a couple of tablespoons of EVOO into a bowl, along with garlic granules, salt and pepper. Swirl the peeled and chopped veggies around until each chunk has collected a coating of the seasoned oil, then roast on a parchment lined baking tray for around 25-30 minutes. Moreish as a tasty snack straight from the fridge or added as a super quick side to any plate. Bonus points for using up neglected veggies and bringing them back to life 😋
Good for you. Good luck and all of that.