Read more: navigating the noise of transition

In this time of upheaval, the world seems so much louder. People’s voices are suddenly brasher, harsher. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that is just different. It’s like people’s words scream with the ghosts of old patterns. Patterns you always knew were there, but ignored – perhaps for good reasons. But right now, they feel too big to ignore. Too loud. Too important. So you merely watch, but your head twitches under the pressure. You’re moving from one thing to the next – but it isn’t soft. It isn’t easy. It is soul-jarringly loud.

Why?

For some, this may be attributable to three months of intense astrological patterns. For others like me, you’re learning to take the reins and step toward what’s meant for you. But taking that step?  It’s brash. Biting. Harsh. Almost like being throw headfirst into the pool at the start of swimming season. The good news is that it’s not unnavigable, but it does involve what so many of us loath: slowing down.

Before my October 2025 move, I lived in the city. I had routines, most of which consisted of steadfastly early workouts and panic walks between tasks. It felt like I was constantly in motion but never moving. I would run, run, run but remained in the same hurried state, under the same pressure.

Then, I moved to Leesburg, Virginia. It is close enough to the city for convenience and activities, but a far cry from a suburb. I still had to travel into Washington D.C. for work, but I was suddenly called to reexamine the rushing.

To slow down. Suddenly, I made conscious efforts to wake up earlier so my morning felt slow and leisurely, like stepping into a worn, comfy pair of pants. I started remote work after mindfully waking, walking the pup, and sitting down to journal, read, and eat. I started identifying patterns that worked for me. Life became quiet. Silent.

But in that silence? A rebellion began. A new life took root, and its sprouts punctured the air the past few months with a cry of agitation.

“Why is everything so damn loud?” It said.

To answer that, I started to observe the world around me. Really watched, especially on the two days I must commute to the city. Everyone moves fast – coffee brews quickly, metros zoom by like missiles, and work meetings land like an assault – but no seems happy. Centered. I found myself bristling on the metro and shuttling home with tiny tendrils of pain zapping through my temples, wondering how the hell I could bridge the gap between two extremes.

The answer? Slowing down.

If remote work from my new home taught me anything, it’s that life can be slow. When you slow down, you begin to know yourself. How you think, who you are, what you want – these realization come in silence and slowness. Some of my more jarring realizations arrive when I’m vacuuming or staring out the window. They come – seemingly out of no where – and that is how I know they are real. True.

 Slowness brings clarity. Rushing heralds survival.

And we deserve more than mere survival.

Slowing down can be agonizing, especially if you’re an overachiever who was taught to live in the fast lane.  But you can do it – even from a city metro – in small, simple ways:

1. Set a non-negotiable hour for your body and mind to “wake up.” This doesn’t have to be in the morning. Sometimes, our mind feels safest to open at night, or in the afternoon sun. Timing doesn’t matter. How you feel does. On days I’m in office, I devote my hour metro ride to meditating, reading, or visualizing. I allow my mind to sink into the movement of the world around me at its own pace, but in an accelerated environment. I don’t work. I intentionally exist. Just for that hour.
2. Meditate. I know, I know – but hear me out: meditation is a literal pause button.  It can be 5 minutes, or thirty. The Psychic Soul and Boho Beautiful offer amazing meditations that range anywhere from five minutes of breathwork to thirty minutes of immersive meditation. I particularly like Boho Beautiful’s ten-minute meditations. (This one is my favorite.) Simple, quick, but centering.
   • The Psychic Soul was my first foray into meditation. The meditations are longer, but they deeply immerse you. I recommend starting the meditations that align with new moons and full moons. There is an app, too, that offers guidance on everyday energy, astrological shifts, and healing. The 28-days of meditating with the moon helped me regulate my nervous system and integrate consistency into my life.
3. Adjust your schedule to allow more intentional morning time. Admittedly, I fail at this on in-office days, but on remote days? I treat each morning like a savored treat. Unless I really need the rest, I am up between 7:11am and 7:30am. I start by feeding Rosie, falling back into bed, then waking to take Rosie on a walk before I come back to plan my day and eat. There is no rushing. No force. Just intentional steps.
4. Integrate nature whenever you can. It’s easier with the warmer weather, but plan hikes and walks. Being out in nature soothes my soul. Rosie and I love Morven Park in Leesburg, Virginia. I’ve noticed that my body works better when I start my day by stepping outside with one intentional walk. Fresh air brings movement. Nature gives soul-clearing clarity. If you’re in the city, find a small park to visit before work or during your lunch break.
5. Ask yourself what you need at least once a day. Be intentional about it. When your head starts pounding on the metro, ask why. Do I need water? Rest? What is overwhelming me right now? Your body has this way of answering faster – and clearer – than you might think.

Navigating transitionary period can be difficult. Whether it’s a physical, spiritual, or mental movement – or all three – you can get lost in the noise, rush, and shifting. But there is always sanctuary in yourself. You just have to slow down to meet it.