October Theme of the Month: Slow Down
Slow down, ground deeply, and welcome autumn with presence
Yoga and Ayurveda in Brookfield, WI
At the beginning of September, my husband, Alex, and I journeyed to the raw and wondrous island of Iceland, a place where earth and sky seem to whisper in unison. For eight days we traced the southern coast, stopping to take in glaciers, waterfalls, rainbows, and endless mountain views. We drove The Golden Circle in a single day, soaked in the quiet magic of hot springs, and wandered the lively streets of Reykjavik.
What began as a simple yet exotic escape—just a six-hour flight from the Midwest—became something far greater: a deep remembering of joy, stillness, and the untamed beauty of the world. In landscapes that felt otherworldly, I found myself listening more closely, not just to nature but to the lessons it carries. And in one unexpected moment, on a boat ride through Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon, a French-born tour guide shared a message that has stayed with me ever since.
Let me set the scene: Alex and I had just arrived at Glacier Lagoon for our Zodiac boat tour. The day had unfolded at an easy pace—lingering over breakfast at the hotel, hiking out to Svartifoss waterfall, and grabbing fish and chips from a food truck for lunch. With a little time before the tour departure, we ducked into the gift shop for a coffee. Outside, the rain fell steady and the air carried a chill familiar to Iceland. I carried my coffee with me, more for warmth than for the caffeine.
As we suited up for the tour, one of the guides, a Frenchman named Ben, helped me with my life preserver. His eyes landed on my coffee, and with a wry smile he asked, “Are you American?” Caught off guard, I laughed: “How did you know?!” He nodded toward the cup, his voice light but certain: “You’re walking around with coffee—it’s a very American thing to do.”
I teased him back, “You’re telling me no one in Iceland walks around with coffee?” Without looking up, he fastened the last buckle on my preserver and replied simply, “No.” The truth of it landed immediately, and before I could stop myself I said aloud, “Oh… because you sit down and enjoy coffee.” He smiled, said nothing more, and moved on to help the next person.
I’ll admit, I felt a little stung by Ben’s comment. Not because he singled me out, but because he was right—and part of me knew I should have recognized it sooner. As a yoga teacher, I talk often about slowing down, about presence, about savoring the moment. Yet here I was, clutching a coffee cup as I made my way onto the next item on my to-do list for the day. I decided then to set aside my pride and step fully into the experience ahead.
Our small group gathered onto the Zodiac boat and pushed off into the still waters of Glacier Lagoon. The air was sharp, the clouds hovered, and everywhere we looked, fragments of ice floated like sculptures carved by time itself. Ben explained that the lagoon is never the same two days in a row—new icebergs break off from the Vatnajökull glacier which feeds the lagoon, others melt away, icy shapes appear and vanish without warning.
On the way back toward shore, we came upon one piece unlike any other. Its wide base curved upward into a delicate arch, with gentle edges of ice angling from all sides it seemed almost unreal. Ben noted that by tomorrow, it might not be there at all. I stared at it in silence, the thought pressing into me with unexpected force: how fleeting beauty can be, how quickly time reshapes what we think will last. My eyes blurred with tears, humbled by the reminder.
It struck me then that this was the very lesson I’d been handed on shore, wrapped in a playful tease about my coffee cup. Life is not meant to be rushed through, carried from place to place like a to-go cup of coffee. It asks us to sit, to savor, to notice. Just as the glacier would never again look exactly as it did in that moment, neither would I. And the only way to truly experience any of it is to slow down enough to be present—hands empty, heart open, eyes up.
That fragile arch of ice has stayed with me as an image of unbelievable natural beauty, and as a reminder of how quickly the present moment passes. In Iceland, the lesson was clear: nature is always changing, and so are we. But back home, the temptation is to rush, to multitask, to keep moving. The gift of that encounter was realizing that slowing down isn’t something reserved for vacations or breathtaking landscapes—it’s something we can practice every day.
This Month at Moonflower: Slowing Down to Welcome Autumn
In Ayurveda, autumn is known as Vata season—a time when the air is cool, dry, and full of movement. Just like the wind that scatters leaves, vata energy can leave us feeling scattered too: restless, rushed, or ungrounded. The best medicine for this season is to slow down, to root ourselves in presence, and to create steadiness in the midst of change. These practices are simple ways to bring that grounding energy into daily life.
🧘 On the mat. So often we treat practice like something to get through, yet yoga is an invitation to linger. Move intentionally. Hold a pose a little longer. Pay attention to the transitions—the way your foot meets the ground, the way your spine lengthens, the way your breath supports you. Slowing down in practice teaches us to notice what we usually skip past.
✨ In Breath. The breath is always available, always with us. Taking just a few slow, steady breaths can shift our entire state of being. Try noticing the expansion of the inhale, the softening of the exhale, the pause in between. Even one minute of mindful breathing can remind us that presence is less about time and more about awareness.
🤍 In Daily Life. Slowing down doesn’t require a big change—it can live in small choices. Sit to drink your morning coffee instead of carrying it with you. Step outside for a short walk without earbuds, just listening to the world around you. Put the phone away during meals. These are little moments, and they create pockets of stillness that change how the whole day feels.
🏡 At Home Practice. Begin each day by giving yourself a moment to simply sit. It doesn’t have to be long—even a minute can be enough. Think of it as a small ritual to root yourself before the day begins. You might choose to journal, meditate, sip a warm drink, practice affirmations, or simply notice your breath. When I take time to sit, I like to set a timer on my phone (or the Insight Timer app); this extra step helps me keep myself accountable and stay present in the stillness – and it keeps me from checking the clock every 10 seconds. 🙂
Slowing down doesn’t mean stopping altogether. It means allowing life to meet us as it is, instead of racing past it. That’s the practice, and the invitation: to notice the fleeting, to honor the moment, and to let ourselves be present for the beauty that’s right here.
May you slow down and savor each moment,
Katie
P.S. A few members of the Moonflower kula asked for pictures from Iceland - here you go. 🙂











