An invitation to Slow Down

The gentle intelligence of the space 'in-between'

There are seasons in life when everything seems to flow effortlessly. You feel strong, connected, creative. Your days fill themselves, you guide, create, hold, and nothing in your body seems to protest.

And yet, in those very moments, a subtle whisper often appears: “Rest. Trust the in-between.”

A whisper I first came to recognize through the work with Psilocibine, who repeatedly invited me to slow down in urgent times.

And paradoxically, it is precisely in those urgent or active periods that the soul (the spirit) asks for slowing down.

The soul lives in the in-between

In my understanding, spirit is not a core hidden within us; it is a living field that arises between us and the world.

Between breath and movement.

Between action and restoration.

Between knowing and not-yet-knowing.

It is not a destination but a web of relationships that is continually in the making.

A process that reveals itself most clearly when we stop rushing toward the next goal and dare to rest in that liminal space where nothing can be forced.

It is precisely there, in that seemingly empty middle, that the deepest shifts take place.

My own tendency to keep going.

I know it well: the energy that carries me, the inspiration that moves through me, the great desire to support and to create. In those moments it feels as if I could continue endlessly.

And yet… this is often when my body begins to tell a different story. Not loudly. Not painfully. But softly, like gentle hands inviting me to slow down.

For years I interpreted that impulse as prevention, like a kind of forward-thinking: “Rest now, so you won’t get tired later.”

But I’ve come to understand that it runs far deeper.

Rest is not the thing that prevents me from collapsing.

Rest is the sacred moment in which I am reshaped.

Slowing down in urgent times

Slowing down as an act of wisdom in times of speed. Not because speed is harmful, but because it often pulls us away from the subtle information life is trying to give us.

Spirit (our soul) reveals itself in the softened rhythm of the body.

In the pause between two thoughts.

In the rest day you schedule, not because you are depleted, but because something else wants to speak.

Slowing down is not the same as stopping. It is attuning.

The in-between as healing ground

And yet, this is the space we often skip. We fill it with plans, productivity, social energy, or spiritual discipline. But the soul in my own experience, speaks most clearly when we do nothing but be present.

In the in-between:

• the body sinks into its natural rhythm,

• old stories surface,

• emotions move without pressure,

• new insights unfold without force,

• the system recalibrates itself.

Not as an act.

But as an organic movement from within.

And the remarkable thing is: you often notice it only once you’re there.

That quiet, almost sacred moment when you feel that you are not “resting,” but being returned to a deeper layer of yourself.

Rest as a relational practice

In my thought rest is not a private project. It is a relational practice.

A way to reconnect with:

• your body

• your emotions

• your ancestors

• your rhythm

• the earth beneath your feet

• and the current that carries you

Rest is an encounter.

A conversation in which you are not the one speaking.

A field in which you don’t have to steer.

It is the place where spirit, that more-than-personal field - can breathe through you again.

The art of softening beforehand

Trough the years I learned more and more that I do need to take rest because I must, but because life itself is waiting for me there. The in-between is not an interruption of my path; it is the ground in which the next part of the path is prepared.

Perhaps rest is not prevention.

Perhaps rest is an invitation to listen to what would otherwise remain unheard.

A place where I do not need to perform, but may feel.

Where I do not need to hold, but may be held.

Where spirit leaves its quiet imprints in me, precisely when everything in my life seems to be “going well.”

An invitation

Perhaps you know this too: that gentle inner signal asking you to sit, breathe, feel. Not because something is wrong, but because something wants to emerge.

Something that can only be heard when you slow down.

Let the in-between speak.

The soul lives there.

That is where the real work unfolds.

Love Larissa