Tiny Acts of Rebellion

It’s hard to dream of slow living

when you’re fighting to survive When your days are filled with numbers, debts, deadlines.

When your body aches from the weight of all you’re carrying.

It’s easy to believe that softness is a luxury you have to earn —something reserved for the lucky ones, the ones who already have enough.

But still, here I am.

Still dreaming.

Still longing for quiet mornings and open afternoons.

Still believing in slow cups of coffee, handwritten notes, sunsets that ask for nothing.

And maybe that’s the bravest thing I’ve done:

to keep dreaming softness inside a world that demands hardness.

Every time I breathe deeply instead of panicking —every time I whisper kindness to myself when the world feels cruel —every time I dare to rest, even when my mind says I haven't "earned" it —

I am committing a tiny act of rebellion.

And maybe that's how we begin.

Not by having everything perfect.

But by building small sanctuaries of slowness inside the storm.

One tiny act at a time.

One tender breath at a time.

With warmth, Rem 💜✨