I made a commitment to myself that I would write two Substack posts a week - one an essay of sorts and the other a round up of five things that me made me smile during that week. Yet, it has now been over six week since my last post.

I have still been here. Reading. Commenting. Discovering. Thinking.

I have so much I want to write. My thoughts swirl. I find inspiration everywhere. But I struggle to find the time to actually put pen to paper. To find the strength to prioritise the time to write.

I used to feel so much pressure to show up on Instagram. I felt nervous if I missed posting a story for a couple of days or a photo on my grid for a week. I felt an obligation to be creative. When I first joined Instagram in 2012 I would post snapshots without agonising over the perfect alignment or filter, or whether anyone even want to see my pictures. I mostly posted pictures of latte art and food. It felt authentic. But as time went on, algorithms were introduced. Videos and reels. I used Lightroom to edit my photos. It was hard to tell who was real and who was a bot. The comments started to feel fake. Like I was back in high school and all the cool girls were posting emojis and meaningless compliments on each others photos. I have already written about how I said farewell to Instagram and my time away has solidified my decision not to return. I feel lighter.

I do not feel that there is the same pressure here on Substack. Some of my favourite writers post very sporadically. I smile with anticipation when, after a few months of silence, one of their posts pops up in my inbox. It waits patiently in line until I have a few moments to read it. There are no algorithms to punish you for time away tending to life.

A few days after my last post on here, my little one started at a new daycare centre. It prompted terrible separation anxiety and a sleep regression that lasted for over a month. Each day my chest was tight with the thought of his tears at drop off. Night after night, I curled up on the floor in his room. His warm hand clinging onto mine until he fell into a deep sleep. A simple need for physical connection.

I may not have had the time or mental space to write on Substack but I have been writing for myself. More than I have for years.

I am a great fan of Brooke McAlary and set aside a few evenings to do some of her retreats, including the one on values. Her community on the Tortoise is incredibly engaged and supportive. A true representation of the connection that is possible on Substack. Brooke recently announced that she would no longer be writing or podcasting about slow living (and I admire her for being brave enough to acknowledge that it was time to close that chapter) but I highly recommend reading through her massive archive of posts.

At first, I thought that the retreat topics might be a bit, dare I say, stupid. But they genuinely prompted some deep self-reflection and helped me crystallise my thoughts through journalling. Just in an old notebook with a boring blue biro. I have written before about my journey to simple living. Over the last few years, I have been taking small steps towards creating a life that is more aligned with my values. But without necessarily articulating those overarching values.

I now know that one of my core values is connection.

I would not be alone in this. I am sure that part of my desire for connection is due to the structure of our modern world. We are increasingly reliant on technology and social media. And there are many benefits. Yet, social media leads to more isolation and loneliness. We are encouraged to work longer hours to keep up with hustle culture and cost of living pressures. Leaving little time and energy to forge face-to-face relationships.

I also moved a few years ago to a city which is known for its transient population and where I had no existing network. But even the parents’ group I was in when my son was born quickly fell to tatters once we had all returned to work.

Of course, connection will have a different meaning to each individual.

I am an introvert. I don’t enjoy being in large groups. I feel uncomfortable in new situations. I prefer my days working from home (thank you, technology) over those in the loud open plan office. I can count my friends on one hand.

For me, it is about cultivating connections to the world: through acts of kindness to my community and to nature.

So how do I cultivate connections?

• I pause to chat to the postie most days even though we very rarely receive physical mail. This week, it was his daughter’s 18th birthday.

• I remember the names of my neighbours and stop to say hi. I do find using people’s names in conversation to be really difficult but try my best (apparently this is a genuine fear!)

• I make eye contact and smile at strangers while walking around the neighbourhood. Having a cute toddler with me helps.

• I comment on Substack posts that resonate with me and have genuine conversations with likeminded individuals.

• I send care packages in the mail with homemade goodies. I need to do this one more often because it fills with me with so much joy!

• I shop at the farmers markets where I can buy directly from the producers and support local.

• I cook from scratch, using seasonal and whole ingredients.

• I make sourdough and biscuits, avoiding processed foods as much as possible.

• I go outside everyday, allowing me to notice the gradual change in the seasons.

• I use a physical diary to write my to do lists and keep track of future important dates.

These are small but powerful actions. They make me feel good for connecting with other people and making sustainable changes to improve our planet. But they also create a positive feedback loop. These actions make other people feel seen and respected, and this is more likely to lead to further small but powerful actions as they go about their days.

So what are some little ways you could cultivate connections today?

• Have a micro interaction with a stranger or neighbour: wave, smile or say hello.

• Write a quick postcard to send in the mail to let someone know you are thinking of them. Or send a birthday card next time a friend’s birthday rolls around.

• Give someone a hug!

• Pick up three pieces of rubbish while walking around the neighbourhood.

• Go outside and marvel at a tiny detail in nature: a raindrop falling down a leaf or the vibrant blue of a bird’s breast.

• Sit in a sunny spot near your window and bask in the warmth.

• Identify one item in your home that next time you buy it you can swap to a more sustainable option: plastic-free, locally made or sourced, ethically produced, secondhand.

• Have dinner at the table without any distractions from technology: put your phones/tablets/laptops on the other side of the room and turn off the TV.

Let me know, how do you define connection? And what are your thoughts on cultivating connections in today’s increasingly digital and busy world?

Until next time,

Steph