January ~ A Quiet Beginning

Pause Here

January didn’t ask anything of me. There was no urgency, no expectation to begin strong or fast. It arrived quietly, and I met it the same way ~ with rest, space, travel, and long stretches of presence. Time with family. Time in nature. Time that didn’t need to become productive or visible.

This beginning was intentional. I closed the studio doors on Christmas Eve and didn’t set a return date. I trusted I would know when it was time to return ~ and that knowing only came because the pause was real.

There was no fixing or planning. No racing to get ahead. Just listening. Honouring. Being exactly where I was.

In that stillness, everything softened into place.

The energy I’m living in

The energy I’m living in feels settled, honest, and deeply anchored.

January was never meant to be productive for me ~ it was meant to be honoured. And because I placed no expectations on it, there has been no disappointment, no sense of falling behind. Only trust.

My focus word for the year is simplicity. Everything else has arranged itself around that.

Play. Presence. Peace. Precision.

Not forced. Not manufactured. Just revealed through how I’ve chosen to spend my time, where I’ve placed my attention, and what I’ve consciously said no to.

I didn’t rush to share this while it was happening. I wanted to live it first. To embody it fully before offering it outward. And now, from that grounded place, this becomes a quiet invitation ~ not to catch up, but to slow down. To choose differently. To remember that sometimes saying no is the clearest yes you can give to what truly matters.

Simplicity has become a form of self-trust. A reminder that I don’t need more to feel full ~ only less of what was never meant to stay.

What I’m loving right now

I’m loving presence in its purest form — the kind that doesn’t rush, perform, or explain itself.

Presence with my husband. Presence with our boys. Presence with myself. Presence with nature. The sound of birds in the morning. The quiet between conversations. The stillness that arrives when nothing is demanding attention.

I’ve turned the volume right down — on social media, on opinions, on unnecessary input — and returned to creating before consuming.

“Zero consumption has opened infinite space. Infinite creativity. Infinite clarity.”

This season has also felt playful and expansive.

One of the highlights was flying high above the ocean, looking down at the world from a bird’s-eye view. Exploring above trees and islands. Following a pod of dolphins — even spotting a mother and her baby swimming side by side.

In one frame, when I zoomed in later, I noticed something I hadn’t seen at first ~ a sea turtle gliding near the rocks below. A quiet reminder that there is always more happening beneath the surface than we realise.It was breathtaking. I felt instantly lit up, reminded how powerful perspective can be when you rise above the noise. Just might add these gorgeous images to my Calming Collective Print Collection.

Horseback riding in the Snowy Mountains. Wildflower collecting. Long sun-drenched days along the Barrington Coast. River swims. Cave adventures. Moments that felt wild and grounding all at once.

There’s a softness to this way of living that feels strong. Nothing chased. Nothing forced. Just being fully here with what’s already good.

How I’m using my time.

Time feels different when it’s intentional. Unrushed. Spacious. Chosen.

At home, I’ve been decluttering room by room ~ wardrobes, kitchen shelves, linen cupboards, the studio office. Letting go of what no longer serves. Creating physical space that mirrors the mental clarity I’ve been craving. Each release has made the house feel lighter. Calmer. More alive.

Andrew and I have also been working on the studio together — timber going up day by day, the veranda slowly coming to life. There’s something deeply satisfying about building with your hands and watching progress unfold in real time. We’ve been such a good team. I’ve loved those small iced coffee breaks in the heat ~ protein iced coffees in hand, pausing to admire the work before getting back to it.

Simple ingredients. Ice. Milk of choice. Coffee. Sometimes a little sweetness. A couple of egg whites blended through. Nothing fancy ~ just satisfying. Ritual over rush.

Time away has looked different. Playful and expansive. And when life shook my nervous system — as it does sometimes ~ I returned to what regulates me quickly. Cold river swims. Nature. Movement. Laughter. Shifting the energy through play instead of sitting in overwhelm.

We don’t control what happens. But we can learn how to come back to ourselves quickly.

Daily stillness has remained non-negotiable ~ anywhere from twenty to sixty minutes of walking without distraction, gentle movement, or simply sitting in silence. I’ve lived this rhythm for years, intentionally designing a life that doesn’t require January productivity. But this season has deepened my appreciation for it.

Time, when treated with care, gives everything back tenfold.

What’s nourishing me right now.

Simplicity.

In how I eat. In how I move. In how I structure my days.

Nourishment right now looks intuitive and light. Blueberries with coconut yoghurt. Protein iced coffees on hot summer mornings. Food that supports my body without weighing it down. Nothing heavy. Nothing rigid. Just listening and responding.

It looks like walking with Roxy. Feeling my feet on the earth. Letting nature regulate my nervous system instead of noise.

It looks like fewer inputs. Fewer voices. Fewer expectations.

Turning the volume down has allowed clarity to rise naturally. Creativity feels cleaner. My energy feels steadier. My body feels calm.

Studio Summer Iced Coffee

Ice

Milk of choice

1–2 egg whites

Fresh coffee

Maple syrup or honey, to taste

Optional:

A splash of Frangelico for a twist I love hazelnut) ~ perfect for a slow sunset drink.

The quiet you found in January

is not tied to a calendar.

It lives in how you choose your days.

As January comes to a close, I’m holding one simple truth close:

Nothing needed to be rushed.

This month asked very little ~ and gave so much in return. Space. Presence. Perspective. A reminder that beginnings don’t need to be loud to be powerful.

If you take anything with you from this, let it be this: you are not behind. The pace you’re moving at is allowed. The way you’re building your life is valid.

This is what it looks like to be her now ~ present, grounded, trusting what’s unfolding, and designing life with intention instead of reaction.

Together, we shine.

Jen x