Let me set the scene: It was a Tuesday night in Miami, the kind of humid evening where the air feels like it might start salsa dancing on its own. I was sprawled on my couch, scrolling through Instagram with the precision of someone who knows exactly how to avoid her exes’ vacation photos. It wasn’t that life was bad, but it wasn’t quite good either—it felt like tamales without enough filling, you know? Fine, but not fulfilling.
That night, lying there as an unpaid spectator in the highlight reels of other people’s lives, I realized: I needed a change. Not a move-to-Bali-and-buy-a-sarong kind of change, but something small, manageable—something that fit neatly into my daily chaos. That’s how I fell into what I now call “The Ritual,” a tiny habit that ended up saving me in ways I didn’t see coming.
Here’s the story of how one simple adjustment took me from a funk to flourishing—and how it could do the same for you.
It Started with a Candle
No, this isn’t the setup to a rom-com where I fall in love with a handsome candlemaker (although, if Hollywood is listening, I’m available). The candle itself isn’t the main character of this story—but what it symbolized for me? Total game changer.
One day, while picking up a cafecito across the street from my favorite mercado, I popped into a cozy neighborhood gift shop. That’s where I saw it: a small white soy candle labeled “Coconut + Fig.” Something about it felt indulgent, almost too much for someone like me, who’d been running on coffee and secondhand stress for months. But I bought it anyway, feeling both thrilled and slightly guilty.
That night, after lighting the candle, I sat still for what felt like the first time in forever. No TV, no phone, no mental list of things I should’ve been worrying about. Just me, that flicker of light, and the gentle scent of a tropical dream I didn’t know I needed.
It didn’t feel like much in that moment. But sitting there in silence, surrounded only by the soft glow of my new candle, woke something up inside of me: a craving for stillness.
The One Thing We Forget in the Rush
Life is noisy. Work deadlines, family group chats, unanswered texts from that one Hinge match who seemed promising—it all piles up. And in all that chaos, I realized I hadn’t given myself permission to slow down in years.
My abuela used to have a saying—“El que anda apurado, ni ve el paisaje”—which roughly translates to, “The one who’s always in a rush doesn’t see the scenery.” Growing up, I heard that phrase while watching her methodically clean black beans, each one inspected as if it might hold the meaning of life. She wasn’t rushing then, and she sure wouldn’t let anyone else rush her.
But somewhere between the impracticality of childhood daydreams and the “do more” credo of adulthood, I lost that slow-burning sense of wonder. That candle brought it back.
Let’s Call It a Micro-Moment
I’m not going to sit here and tell you that lighting a candle solved everything. But that small ritual gave me a tiny sliver of time each day that was entirely mine. No notifications. No noise. Just a flame and the realization that even tiny respites can feel revolutionary.
I started layering on more moments of stillness. I'd play one salsa record all the way through without skipping songs, or step outside to feel the sun for five full minutes (yes, Miami heat can be brutal, but even brutal heat deserves some appreciation). Before I knew it, these small choices became part of my daily rhythm—not in a “look at me, achieving mindfulness” way, but in a quiet, grounding way that didn’t demand perfection.
These micro-moments weren’t just pauses—they were a reminder that I deserved space to exist without agenda or expectation.
The Ripple Effect
What I didn’t expect? How these “selfish” little moments would spill into the rest of my life—especially my relationships.
For one, they made me aware of just how often I’d been running on autopilot. I mean, have you ever realized mid-conversation that you’re only pretending to listen, mentally filing through your to-do list instead? Yeah, me too. But the more I carved out time for these still moments, the more present I became during not-so-still moments.
When I finally started dating again after a long hiatus, something shifted. Instead of stressing about whether someone met my expectations, I focused more on how they made me feel in the moment. Did we vibe? Could we laugh about stuff? Did they seem like the kind of person who might notice the “scenery” my abuela loved so much?
By slowing down and giving myself room to breathe, I gave my relationships—even the non-romantic ones—a better version of me. Calm Isabela, Intentional Isabela, Someone-Who-Comes-With-A-Candle-Recommendation-Isabela. Honestly, she’s a vibe.
How You Can Start Your Own Ritual
This isn’t just about candles (although, FYI: coconut and fig is the unsung hero of scent combos). It’s about finding ways to honor those tiny moments of stillness in a world that screams at us to hustle harder.
Here’s your starting kit:
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Pick Your Token of Stillness
It could be a candle, a cup of tea, or even your favorite song. The only requirement is that it needs to feel a little indulgent. Claim it as a daily reminder to pause. -
Protect the Habit
Set a time or place for it. Maybe mornings before work, or right after you put the kids to bed. Treat it like a non-negotiable—you wouldn’t cancel on Beyoncé, would you? (Exactly.) -
Expand Slowly
Once the habit sticks, think about other micro-moments you can incorporate. Maybe it’s journaling for three minutes or finding one reason to laugh uncontrollably each day. -
Stop Chasing Perfection
The beauty of this habit is in its simplicity. Don’t let that little critic in your head convince you it’s silly or unnecessary. Those moments of stillness? They’re where the magic lives.
A Love Letter to Being Still
I get it—life moves fast. Work, love, healing, that endless line at Publix—it all demands so much from us. But the irony is that we can’t show up fully for anything if we’re constantly running on fumes.
So this is your nudge. Light the candle. Play the record. Feel the sun. Start small, and let the habit grow alongside you. Because when you carve out a space to be still, you make room for transformation—and trust me, it’s worth it.
As my abuela would say: Stop rushing. The scenery’s waiting for you.
