Like so many new mothers, I turned to my phone, the internet, and social media, hoping to create the sense of connection I so desperately craved. But instead of filling me up, it gave me only a false sense of community—one that left me feeling even more isolated and hollow.

It wasn’t until I began slowing down, returning to my art practice and intentionally seeking out in-person community, that I found my way back home to myself. Over time, I’ve come to see that slowing down is more than just a pause. For me, it has become a sacred practice—one that one that gently reconnects mind, body, and spirit.

The Myth of “Faster is Better”

Motherhood has a way of exposing the cultural myths we didn’t even know we were living by. Before I became a mom, moving quickly through life felt natural. I thrived in a society that values productivity and achievement, and I was rewarded when I fit the mold. Anyone else?

But motherhood doesn’t fit that mold. It’s messy, unpredictable, and there’s no gold star waiting on the other side of your accomplishments. Still, so many of us feel the pressure to keep up—to heal faster, to quickly figure out who we are as mothers, to rush our children through milestones. This conditioning whispers that “faster is better,” and if we’re not careful, it can seep into the most sacred parts of motherhood.

The Choice to Resist the Myth

Once I became aware of the myths I was reinforcing, I could begin to make a different choice—for myself, my motherhood, and their childhood. Awareness creates the opening; choice deepens it.

When we begin to gently release the story that our value lies in speed, productivity, and achievement, we allow room for something else: connection, presence, and healing. This doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t mean life suddenly feels easier. But it does mean that we can pause long enough to ask: What is actually nourishing me? What pace feels sustainable?

Resisting the myth of “faster is better” is an act of care—for ourselves and for the ones we love. And the more we practice slowing down, the more we remember that worthiness was never tied to speed in the first place.

What Art Taught Me About Slowing Down

As an art therapist in Denver who works with women and moms, I’ve learned that art is one of the best teachers of slowing down. Observation is at the heart of my work. It requires patience, presence, and noticing the small things: the weight of a brushstroke, the layers of materials, the rhythm of the marks, the pauses between them. These details reveal a world that would be invisible if rushed.

Life is the same way. When we slow down, we open ourselves to presence; presence is what allows us to notice beauty, emotion, connection, and awe. When our days are filled with noise and busyness, presence slips away. But when we return to it, even briefly, life feels fuller. Slowing down doesn’t erase the challenges of motherhood, but it does invite us to meet them with more softness, more curiosity, and more room to breathe.

A True Story about Slowing Down with Art

In our culture, art-making is often dismissed as a luxury, not a necessity. Even in art therapy, clients sometimes feel pressure to be productive, to make something “worthwhile.” But the truth is, wisdom lives in the process itself—the layering, the color choices, the repetition of marks.

In a recent session, I witnessed a client slowly repeating patterns, drawing line after line to form a bridge. It was simple, but we noticed something important: she was soothing herself through the rhythm of repetition. The art became a mirror, showing her what her body and spirit were already trying to do: find comfort, safety, and calm through slowness.

It’s not the finished piece that matters, but the way the hand moves across the page. The way we allow ourselves to linger. The gift of slowing down becomes its own medicine.

Returning to the Sacred Practice of Slowing Down

When I first stepped into motherhood in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I felt untethered, lonely, overwhelmed, and without a community to hold me. I sought connection online, but the noise only deepened my isolation. It wasn’t until I consciously slowed down—through art, presence, and in-person community—that I began to find my way home to myself. Slowing down has become more than a pause; it’s a sacred practice that grounds me in mind, body, and spirit.

If you are longing for more space to breathe, know that you are not alone. This longing is a quiet invitation to return to yourself. I invite you to explore this practice with intention, whether through art, mindfulness, or joining a supportive group like Nurture Art Studio for moms, where slowing down becomes a shared journey of care and connection. You can learn more about my offerings at www.wildsunflowerwellness.com or find me on Instagram @wildsunflowerwellness.

About the Author: Leanne is a Denver-based art therapist, perinatal mental health specialist, and space-holder for deep-feeling women and mothers who long to return home to themselves. Blending creativity, mindfulness, and somatic approaches, she guides clients through the sacred work of remembering who they are beneath the noise of trauma, perfectionism, and overwhelm. Discover more at www.WildSunflowerWellness.com.