Slow days, long walks, rest, and pancakes
A tale of simple pursuits that make life
I once stumbled upon a quote from an interview with Cillian Murphy, saying: “My life is very simple. I read a lot of books, watch a lot of movies, listen to a lot of music, walk the dog, and cook with my family.”
And I couldn’t help but nod. It always seemed to me that the small, simple things, done consistently, are the ones that make the difference.
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about what those things are for me besides the ones I was nodding in agreement with. I realized that last year, when I was going through a tough time, reading, long walks, cooking, and (learning to) rest were the props that kept my head above the water. These seemingly ordinary pursuits—reading, long walks, cooking, and rest—acted as an anchor and formed a rhythm in my life, each nurturing different aspects of my well-being and regulating my nervous system.
What are the simple pursuits that brighten your days? Let me know in the comments.
Books & reading
I developed a passion for letters when I was about four years old. Soon after, I started scribbling them with crayons, and by the age of six, I already knew how to read. At that age, I often found myself lost in enchanted worlds beyond my own, like Lucy stumbling through the wardrobe into Narnia.
But in my teens, I fell out of love with books due to the rigid school curriculum, which required reading specific books at specific times for exams and schoolwork—an approach I passionately disliked. I preferred discovering stories at my own pace and forming opinions about them without the bias of scholarly expectations. Then, in my early twenties, I fell in love with reading again—and haven’t stopped since. I occasionally take breaks, but I usually read every evening.
A regular occurrence for me is spending Saturday mornings tucked in bed, so engrossed in a book that two hours slip by unnoticed—breakfast forgotten, and my stomach growling.
Reading not only brings me joy, but also improves my focus and writing, and it helps me sleep. On restless nights, when I lie awake in bed and sleep won't come easily, the comfort of knowing a book or my Kindle is within arm's reach is immeasurable—that and the song of a robin, blackbird, or nightingale.
I often carry stories on my walks, musing about what I just read. This interplay of thoughts and walking has become a wellspring of creativity, sparking ideas for recipes or posts.
Long walks
Do you know the saying: "I came for the physical benefits, but I stayed for the mental ones"? This happened to me soon after I made walking a daily habit (circa 2015).
What began as a pursuit of physical health—"getting my steps in," being active, and all that gist—transformed into an exercise of being present.
Each day, as I step outside and start walking, the crunch of gravel beneath my feet and the breeze on my face signal the start of my moving meditation.
This walking habit has literally changed my brain, one step at a time. Apparently, when we walk, a few things happen: an improvement in mood, more clarity, creative ideas flowing, and emotional processing. It has also become a form of active rest, a balm for sleepless nights, and my go-to when there's too much chatter in my mind.
Rest
Rest has always been a test for me. I had to unlearn the deeply ingrained notion that productivity equals worth, learn that resting isn’t laziness, and accept that I don't need to achieve something daily.
In the past few years, I've become more intentional about creating space for slow, unstructured days—days when I don't need to be anywhere and lying in bed with a book until noon seems essential.
But I realized that I only recently learned to rest—truly rest. That rest is a daily habit rather than a bunch of activities you do on weekends, supposedly to help you relax and recover, but which inevitably end up being more stressful than restful.
What I mean by that is learning the difference between a state of being and a state of doing. It’s the small moments when I stand up from my desk to make a cup of tea, the conscious breath I take as I pause to gaze at my flowers on the terrace, the five minutes I spend basking in the sun, or the time I spend connecting with my sister and niece over a video call to hear her laugh.
As Abigail Bergstrom writes in her post, "Effortless Rest," rest "is in the daily pause. It's in the conscious breath. It's in you."
It took me a long time to realize that. Somehow, I always looked at rest as something external, an act outside the body, but the funny thing is that most of it is inside.
It's in the state of both my mind and body.
Cooking
There are few things I find as precious as a beautifully cooked home meal.
Cooking has become my bridge between activity and rest, a form of doing that engages my senses and grounds me in the present moment. On rest days, I take a different approach, creating with what I have at hand rather than meticulously planning dishes as I inevitably do during the week.
Since this week was busy and my body didn’t feel rested, I decided to treat myself this morning with something I genuinely love: buckwheat pancakes.
While I was cooking them, I found myself immersed in the process: the gentle sizzle of batter hitting the pan, the earthy aroma of buckwheat mingling with the sweet scent of cinnamon and vanilla essence, and the satisfaction of watching golden circles form. Then, the plating, which crowned all this effort with a plate so colorful and happy that it made my heart sing.
As I sit here now, savoring the last bites of my freshly made buckwheat pancakes, I realize how these four elements—reading, walking, cooking, and resting—have woven themselves into the very fabric of my days. They form a gentle rhythm, a personal symphony of pursuits that sustains me through ordinary and challenging times.
And now, as promised, here's the recipe for my beloved buckwheat pancakes—a simple pleasure you can create in your own kitchen.
I dare you to try this recipe; it won't disappoint.
Buckwheat protein pancakes
The best part about this recipe is the small number of kitchen utensils it requires—mainly a bowl, a whisk, a grater, and a pan.
Serves: 2 ( generous servings, about six medium-big pancakes each)
Prep time: 5 -10 mins
Cooking time: 15 mins
Ingredients
1 medium ripe banana, mashed
1 medium apple, grated (I prefer jazz apples for their taste, crunchiness and sweetness)
4 medium eggs
200g buckwheat flour
200g of cottage cheese, greek yogurt, or plain yogurt
½ teaspoon of vanilla essence
1 pinch of salt
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon cardamon (optional)
1 teaspoon of baking powder
2 tablespoons of seeds mix (chia, hemp, flax seeds) - optional
*Note: the seed mix can be omitted if you’re preparing these for little ones
Method:
1. Whisk the eggs with a pinch of salt in a bowl until they are airy and fluffy.
2. Add the mashed banana, the dairy of choice, and the vanilla essence and continue whisking. (If you’re using cottage cheese, use a hand blender to break down the cheese pearls).
3. Mix the buckwheat flour, spices, seed mix, and baking powder, spoon by spoon to the wet ingredients, and continue to whisk until all the flour is incorporated.
4. Grate the apple, then slowly fold it in with the rest of the ingredients.
Don’t over-mix the batter; the pancakes will lose shape and become dense instead of fluffy.
5. Preheat a nonstick pan over medium heat and add just a tiny amount of coconut oil or ghee. When hot, pour about 2 tbsp of batter into the pan, using the back of your spoon to shape it into a round pancake.
6. When lightly golden on the bottom, flip it and let it cook on the other side.
7. When the pancakes are done, layer them and add your toppings and extra Greek yogurt.
Toppings
I like to serve the pancakes with one tablespoon of peanut butter on top, fresh mixed berries, and kiwis (and persimmons when they’re in season).
P.S. I hope you like them as much as I do. x