Lately, I’ve been wanting less. Not in the sense of going without, but in the way of craving more room to breathe. More quiet. More moments that don’t need to be explained. I’ve noticed how deeply I long for simplicity — not the Pinterest version, not in the performance of minimalism, but the kind that lets me actually feel my life again.
Wanting that kind of life sometimes feels like moving in the opposite direction of the world. Like I’m trying to tune into a frequency most people have stopped listening for. Simplicity, in a society that worships more (I’m guilty of this), can feel flat out rebellious.
I’ve also caught myself treating peace like a checklist.