the guilt

article and photos by Helen Ibrahimian

of stillness

By existing online, we are nonconsensually exposed to the fast-paced and mechanised rhythm society wants us to follow.

Finding the time to recharge and reconnect with ourselves is as challenging as it is needed.

As someone who thrives on routine and predictability, slow-paced days often leave me with a strange and sticky aftertaste.

For me, feeling content with the day depends quite a bit on how many tasks I’ve been able to complete. We are all attempting to find a balance between working effectively while also allowing yourself to be able to do nothing.

In his book Four Thousand Weeks, author Oliver Burkeman points to

a common contradiction: even our leisure is shaped by

the logic of productivity.

Once meant to restore or delight, our time off now carries the pressure to be useful. Our hobbies, holidays and quiet mornings are now treated as tools for becoming better workers or more efficient people. Time off becomes time to recharge -

not for ourselves, but so we can perform better later.

A walk becomes a chance to optimise mental clarity, rather than simply being a walk.

I believe we should try reframing how we recharge and rest. It does not have to mean relentlessly scrolling in bed, but rather to find peace within the stillness.

With solitude.

With going slow.

Educational philosopher John Dewey reminds us that childhood isn’t just practice for something else - it is life itself. We wouldn’t ask a six-year-old to carry the weight of who they will be tomorrow or rush them toward a future self. It is strange how, as adults, we often forget this simple truth. We hurry through the moments we have, always preparing, always planning - as if now is not enough.

But maybe the only time we truly have is right here, right now.

Adding moments of true rest and quietude, possibly not fitting into our packed agendas, really show to be necessary.

I find it crucial to incorporate moments of staying close to and in contact with my body, especially as everything else in my days feels out of my control. Being able to live slowly and feel all the feelings is now a privilege.

Mindfulness teacher Thich Nhat Hanh teaches that bringing gentle attention to the body’s sensations grounds us in the present, calming the storm of thoughts. In Love Letters to the Earth, he writes, “When you love someone, the greatest gift you can give is your presence. How can you love if you are not there?”

For me, this is what self-care really means. It’s not about counting steps, showing off workouts, or ticking off some perfect morning routine. It is about just being present. Tuning back in with yourself and listening to what your body and mind actually need right now.

Based on the theories above and the very notion that rest and wellness in our downtime is not only a path for regeneration - but a reflection of human existence, here is a guide of ways to connect with yourself. These points will be based on our five senses, the mentors of our feelings and how we experience life. We often overlook how we intentionally can engage with them to deepen the connection to ourselves.

Even if our schedules feel more packed than ever, let us attempt to make the small moments matter.

As the largest organ of our body, our skin deserves care that goes beyond appearance. Rather than aiming to perfect or reverse the signs of being alive, let us delve into how to better care for

and respect our skin.

I recently completed a course within gua sha and face massage, where our teacher Vilde Sletten reminded us of how powerful it can be to be in true touch with our own skin. She explained how we can use touch as a support for our skin, rather than a way to pressure it to look a certain way. Our skin does not need to be fixed, but we can allow it to work how it is meant to, where our two hands can be an extra support for this process. Sletten additionally highlighted how getting to know our skin through soft touch, rather than demands, might trickle down and affect how we view ourselves to.

An expansive spa day, professional hands or an exfoliating mask can be great, but so can incorporating moments of simple and intentional care.

We have over forty muscles in our face, and caring for them might result in both visible and felt effects. Founder of FaceGym, Inge Theron, speaks of facial massage by linking it to benefits such as lymphatic drainage and boosting skin metabolism. Perhaps most importantly, she emphasises how facial massage puts the power back in your hands. She describes it as a ritual, and a way to become closer to yourself. Knowing this, these quiet moments feel both indulgent and essential for both body and mind.

For a facial oil, there are many to choose from. Use what you have, or select one that supports your skin's needs while working well for a facial massage.

I recommend choosing a single pure oil - a large bottle will last longer, be more inexpensive and keep the ritual uncomplicated.

Starting off our days with two minutes of the morning routine, a simple facial oil and the weight of our own hands will help us stay present in the moment, and remind us that our wellbeing is worth spending time on.

Massaging in an upwards motion, you may notice areas that need extra attention; tension in your jaw, or that points around the eyebrows or temples require some extra care.

You can extend the motion to the neck, shoulders and chest as well.

A simple ritual like this can ground you before taking on the day and release accumulated tension at night.

In the book Perfume, The A-Z Guide, I came across a passage that really stood out.

Author Tania Sanchez compares choosing your scent for the day, to having an orchestra following you, playing a theme song of choice throughout the day. She goes on to how the scent can change the colours of the air, decorating your day.

This notion really emphasizes the weight of the scents we choose to surround ourselves with. Almost as if fragrances can put a filter on how we see the world - showing the great power of scent. Given our unique needs and emotions this makes it clear that there will be no single fragrance

that can suit us all.

Scents are able to speak directly to our memories. Possibly not as known as his work, Andy Warhol had a unique relationship with scent and fragrance.

Not only would he keep a detailed log of scents while passing through the streets of New York City, but he would also change out his fragrance every three months, such as this one fragrance would always take him back to this time in his life.

In his autobiography “The Philosophy of Andy Warhol”, Warhol writes:

“Of the five senses, smell has the closest thing to the full power of the past. Smell really is transporting. Seeing, hearing, touching, tasting are just not as powerful as smelling if you want your whole being

to go back for a second to something.”

What fragrance I choose is largely based on season, mood, activity for the day,

even what I am wearing.

Not only do I have a deep interest in fragrance myself, but I also work for a brand based solely on creating unique olfactory experiences in various products, including fragrance.

When I attempt to understand my customers' wishes and needs for a new perfume, I often ask one short but equally as complicated question; What do you want to feel when you put it on?

Some might mention words like energized, witchy, elegant, or clean. Others pause before they bring up a memory rather than a feeling; having your toes touch the cold water and sand on the beach, the hush of an old library, or even

a warm embrace.

What is it for you? What energy would you like to bring with you for the upcoming season?

What do you want to be reminded of?

With this, I hope to inspire you to find the scent for you.

What if we take away the aspect of wearing it to alter how people perceive us, but rather try to reach a certain emotion and energy through the scents we surround ourselves with.

It does not have to be a fragrance either, but a scent that gives you that instant feeling you want to cultivate. Whether it is a hand balm, a facial mist, or a scented candle for your home.

Something that will bring you this feeling and that grounds you in the moment, no matter the circumstances.

The type of sounds we choose to surround ourselves with can set the tone for our entire days.

It has the power to shift the energy.

This year, I am sure my spotify roundup is going to look quite different.

These past months I have felt how having constant background music in my ears, whether that be on public transport or when reading, might leave us isolated from the very experience of living in a world that is alive.

It can make us forget the sounds of both nature and existence, things that are

good to notice and feel connected to.

I have been inviting more quiet and softness into my life, and I have made an effort to not always cave in to the need of constant stimulation through my ears.

On my weekend trip to London for

the launch of our issue IV, I left

my wired earplugs at home,

unintentionally.

This resulted in me walking around the streets of London being fully present, taking in all the sounds and conversations around me.

Even though I was travelling alone, my days were filled with conversations with various people, many of which I am sure would not have happened had I walked around

with my earplugs.

Coming into a store, the hotel or a cafe

without music playing in my ears, made me take in all that happened around me to a greater extent, while additionally signalling to others that I was truly present

and available for conversation.

The outside world is full of things fighting for our attention. Being able to stay grounded in the present turns out to be extremely challenging, but also rewarding. Neuroscientist Andrew Huberman often mentions how our brains respond to sensory input, and that noticing and controlling what enters can affect our mood, focus and alertness. While I do not underestimate some soft background tunes while cooking and still enjoy walking around with music playing, I have been finding that inviting stillness with intention just as rewarding.

In his book Silence in the Age of Noise, author Erlend Kagge discusses how a technique or

a course is not necessary when attempting to practise silence, but

that it is right in front of our noses.

He explains how you can create silence for yourself while doing everyday tasks, and that even

in our bustling world you hold the power

to isolate yourself from this, much like an island - reminding us that silence is less something to reach, and more something we choose to step into.

I have shared with you a playlist I made a few years back, when my commute to school would be around an hour long.

I would put this on, close my eyes, and just focus on the music and tune out everything else.

My intention was to prepare my brain for a long day ahead, not particularly to transport myself to somewhere else, but rather ground myself in the present.

This calmness and quiet I have been welcoming lately has altered how I now use sound more intentionally, and I hope it might do the same for you.

When it comes to sight, we often forget how much what we observe might shape how we feel inside.

At home, this might mean arranging our space intentionally and in a way that offers calm and aids us in stepping out of the outside world, and back to ourselves.

After a long day at work or university, most of us crave connection to the real world, but ironically end up reaching for our phones.

What if we attempt to be physically present instead?

Author Eckhart Tolle notes that many of us live too much in our minds, and not enough in our bodies.

We often go through our days almost unaware that we even have a body.

What this means is that we often get so caught up in our lives, forgetting to feel deeply, sometimes even to breathe properly. It seems many of us even forget that we exist in a world that is alive and here.

With our necks hunched over our phones while commuting or walking, we are missing out on a lot.

You might have heard of flaneuring, a term coming from the French word flânerie, which can be defined as wandering with intention.

As author Erika Owen highlights in her book

“The Art of Flaneuring”, it can also mean taking a walk for the sake of taking a walk.

Not to get from one point to the other,

not to get exercise.

She explains how this opens for looking outwards, and letting this influence your thoughts inwards.

When living in a city, bustling with life and sound, these quiet moments of moving your body while observing might feel even more revolutionary.

Find a spot, whether that be a café that calms you or somewhere outside.

A place you call your place, a place where you intentionally do not use your phone or work on deadlines.

Somewhere you bring your book, a camera, your journal, or even a sketchbook.

Focus on noticing as many details as you can.

You will probably come to notice a new detail, no matter how often you frequent this place.

Maybe another person who returns here often, a specific sound from a nearby bird, a scent from the coffee grinder or from the flowers growing there.

Here in the northern hemisphere, we do not have too much time left before the cold marks its return. Make it an intention to savour these last few weeks of the sun being relatively present and of the crisp autumn air.

The main argument surrounding the ideas above comes down to ritualising the mundane.

It is about how we should think a bit more not only about what we do, but also

how we do it.

When it comes to taste, a good cup of tea will always guide me to the present moment. Brewing a cup can be an art form, like in a traditional tea ceremony, or you can just throw a tea bag into boiling water and call it a day.

Brewing with meticulous care is not crucial for enjoying your beverage, but it might aid in your appreciation of the flavours on your tongue, aiding in savouring the moment.

In a time where we are used to easy options and grabbing our takeaway beverages while on the go, choosing to slow down is an act of deep intention in a world that

wants you to rush.

There is something powerful about waiting. Tea asks one thing of you, and that is presence.

The water must heat and the leaves must steep for the flavours to fully emerge.

Setting aside a couple of minutes for this small act of delayed gratification can feel grounding in itself.

Adriana Ayales, founder of Anima Mundi Herbals, explains beautifully how we can understand plants and even appreciate all

they can offer for us.

She describes plants as the alchemists of nature, creating remedies through mastering the combination of powers from soil,

water and sunlight.

Purchasing separate herbs and teas will allow you to combine them endlessly for your shifting needs, while choosing loose leaf over tea bags is a simple, yet effective way to limit the amount of single-use waste.

As someone who is very sensitive to caffeine, I really do love a cup of coffee, but my body and head do not. Over time, I have been able to find alternatives in teas and herbs, offering both a much broader range of flavours, but also additional benefits than coffee does not.

There are herbs that boost energy and alertness, and some that help to unwind both body and mind.

Creating our own blends will not only bring unique flavour combinations, but also support our bodies and brains when going through various stages of the day.

Getting into herbs and tea is easier than we might believe, and I will give a little guide to a few herbs perfect to start your own little herbal apothecary at home.

First the taste, then the calm - both pleasure and pause unfolding together.

Even as the world races on, demanding our attention, our energy and our presence, the senses remind us that life cannot be measured in tasks or deadlines. Touch, sound, scent, sight, taste - they act as anchors pulling us back to ourselves, signals that we exist here, now. Feeling, noticing and lingering are not acts of indulgence.

It is rebellion, where we reclaim the time and space that belong to no one but ourselves.

By leaning into presence, by cultivating rituals that honour our bodies and minds, we step off the conveyor belt of constant doing. We enter a life where simply being is enough, where moments of quiet, of attentiveness, and of care are not luxuries but the very substance of our existence. To live fully is to inhabit your senses fiercely, deliberately and unapologetically. And in this, we will together discover the freedom, the depth, and the beauty that has always been ours.