Making Space for What Matters
Living well, at least for me, is all about giving myself space to rest, recover, and recharge—on purpose. That usually means I’m curled up with a book (either on my Kindle or, if I’m feeling fancy, an actual physical copy—the key thing here is not reading on my phone), flipping through my Bible, hanging out with my friends or family, or heading off on little adventures nearby or wherever I can. Basically, it’s about putting my phone away and actually being present with the people and things right in front of me. It sounds simple, but honestly, it makes all the difference.
A few things really help me feel present in my life. One of my favourites is helping my dad cook. I’ve picked up so much just from watching him do his thing in the kitchen. Even if I’m not hands-on, I usually end up perched on a barstool, tossing questions his way—stuff like, why are you chopping that like this, or why fry instead of bake? I’ve learned that cooking (and honestly, life) doesn’t always happen at the snap of your fingers. You’ve got to slow down, pay attention, and practice.
Another thing: playing board games with my mom. We’re creatures of habit and cycle through the same three games (cribbage, backgammon, and Skip-Bo), but it never gets old. We always wind up laughing, and for those 15–30 minutes, our phones stay out of sight, and it’s just us, enjoying each other’s company. I try to catch these moments whenever our schedules line up—it’s a small thing, but I always feel a bit lighter afterwards, like it was time well spent.
And honestly? Just going for a walk is huge, too.
Lately, I’ve been making a point to take my walks without music or my phone glued to my hand. If I’m downtown, I tune in to the sounds—cars zooming by, people chatting, birds and planes overhead. If I’m just wandering my neighbourhood, it’s all about that quiet, the odd car, or a random breeze. I’ll catch myself staring up at the mountains or checking out the different buildings. It’s become a little habit to just let my mind wander or have a quiet prayer walk (literally just praying as I walk).
Oh, and random aside—a shoutout to this wellness app I use, called Finch. It’s this cute little thing where you get a digital bird that cheers you on. The app’s honestly kept me sane and on track during some weird times, and it helps me do those everyday tasks I’d probably forget about otherwise. Finishing a reminder and having that little bird celebrate? Weirdly satisfying.
Something that makes an ordinary day feel meaningful? Getting a totally random, encouraging text from a friend. I try to send those out sometimes too, but when one lands in my inbox, it never fails to make my day better. Then there are those moments where you just share a laugh with someone—maybe it’s a dumb inside joke with a friend or something silly that happens at home—and suddenly things don’t feel so heavy.
Honestly, even ticking off a small thing on my to-do list or finishing a book feels like a win. And don’t get me started on the little things you notice when you slow down: the sun through the trees, birds making a racket, or stumbling on a patch of flowers you swear wasn’t there yesterday. All these tiny moments—whether I’m with someone or on my own—remind me that you don’t need fireworks for a day to feel meaningful. Most of the time, it’s the small stuff that really sticks.
Lately, I’m really trying to figure out how to fill my alone time with stuff that actually fills me up, not just drains me. Picking up a book instead of doom-scrolling on my phone, that kind of thing. It’s honestly way too easy to fall into the phone trap—sometimes I grab it before I even realize what I’m doing!
Trying to do something new or start a hobby always feels like a challenge, but I know it’s worth it. I’m learning to appreciate just being by myself, slowing down, and taking care of me. I’m still working on making those good choices a habit, and I’m not there yet, but I think the journey matters. If you’re in the same boat, trust me, I get it.
Honestly, I just want to be the kind of person who knows how to fill her own bucket—someone who’s learning, trying new things, and figuring out how to actually rest instead of just zoning out. I want to handle stress in healthier ways, even when the people around me might not have all the answers or support I need.
My hope is to be someone friends and family can count on, whether things are awesome or falling apart (because let’s be real, life is messy). I want to be resilient, kind, and steady—the reliable one you can text at midnight or celebrate with when something great happens. Still working on it, but that’s the goal.
