Why Analog Maximalism is the Only Self-Care Trend You Need This Summer
I have been binge watching Schitt’s Creek for the zillion’th time ever since they announced they’ll be taking it off from Netflix. That show is the best thing one can ever watch in their lifetime. I wish they leave it on but…
Anyway!
Coming to the article. I have been thinking about how much of our “self-care” happens behind a screen. And that’s the kind of whole point I decided to do this piece today.
We scroll for inspiration, we track our habits on apps, and we look at photos of other people’s peace. There is so much beauty in our digital world, but I’ve realized that my soul is craving something I can actually hold and feel it, and be out from the digital world for a second.
I’ve decided to lean into a lifestyle that feels incredibly rich, deeply tactile, and profoundly comforting.
It’s the era of analogue maximalism. 🎀
It is a celebration of the physical, the tangible, and the sensory. It is about the satisfying weight of the real world and the peace that comes when we intentionally surround ourselves with objects that have a soul.
It is a transformative approach to self care, and it feels like finally coming home.
Why I’m Trading Apps for Real Moments
I have tried dozens of water tracking apps, and the recent one was this Waterlama. I am so particular about having at least 2 ltr of water but sometimes when you miss logging it in the app…it kind of feels like all the water I had isn’t being counted. 😹
Just like when you forget your apple watch to gym and now the whole workout feels pointless because there is no record!! That’s exact kind of setup I wanted to get out of.
These tools are brilliant for keeping me on track, yet they can sometimes make my downtime feel like another task to be managed.
The result is a low-grade, constant hum of mental noise that I’m ready to quiet.
Well, I did sell my apple watch for various reasons, one of them it giving me headache but yes, the watch tracking my sleep and vitals and everything started to feel a lot more like chore rather than just a part of lifestyle.
I wasn’t enjoying any of that. I stopped wearing my apple watch, uninstalled that water tracking app and started being more tactile about little things.
And perhaps that’s whole reason people been talking about Analog maximalism lately. 👀
These tools are brilliant for keeping us on track, yet they can sometimes make our downtime feel like another task to be managed. 🤷🏻♀️
Analogue maximalism offers a soft place for attention to land. It invites us to stop measuring our progress and start feeling the surroundings.
When I hold a physical book, there is no progress bar telling me how much is left. And yes, I have sold Kindle too. 🙈
There is only the texture of the paper and the rustle of the turning page. This friction is the magic.
Physical objects tether me to the present moment. They demand my touch and my presence, acting as anchors in a fast-moving world.
Curating a Tactile, Cozy Environment
If digital minimalism is a quiet, empty space, my version of analog maximalism is a sunlit library filled with velvet armchairs, stacked teacups, and heavy woven blankets.
It draws from the heart of slow living that I’ve come to love so much.
It embraces the traditional, the cozy, and the delightfully old-fashioned. I’m finding so much joy in choosing the long way simply because the experience feels more meaningful to me. It is a lifestyle of abundance.
I am thriving on an abundance of texture.
For me, that means keeping my favorite loose-leaf teas in glass jars on the counter where I can see them. It means a stack of unread, beautifully bound books on my nightstand. It means reaching for heavy ceramic mugs that warm my hands long after the tea is poured.
This summer, my goal is to make my immediate environment as deeply sensory as possible.
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I spend so much time in my own thoughts. I deserve to invite my body back into the room. When I surround myself with tactile objects, I am constantly reminding my nervous system that I am safe, grounded, and physically here.
The Return of Commonplace Book 🙉
The way I capture my ideas has shifted back to the page, and it has changed everything for my creativity.
I still use my digital workspaces for efficiency. They keep my blog organized and my projects moving. But my commonplace book offers a different kind of sanctuary. It is the central repository for the fragments of my life. The observations I make and the daily reflections that move me.
I’ve found that writing by hand is a fundamentally different process than typing. It is a slow, deliberate act.
My hand moves at a human pace, forcing me to distill my thoughts and sit with my ideas before the pen hits the paper.
This physical act of writing is self care in its purest form. ♥️
As the summer progresses, I am letting my journal book swell with the season. I’m filling it with the names of the books I read and the quiet realizations that only come when my phone is tucked away.
Elevating the Evening Skincare Ritual
The beauty industry is a mix of quick and long step rituals. But I’ve realized that true care requires me to linger. I want my routines to be a deeply indulgent, tactile ritual.
Consider evening skincare. Instead of a hurried step before bed, I am leaning into the sensory experience.
That thick cream texture, that heat when you rub palms together before applying the facial oil. I even got back to the amethyst Gua Sha I used to do years ago.
I take a full minute just to release the tension in my jaw.
These moments help me pull my attention away from digital stress. 😌 I become the sole focus of my own gentle attention.
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Designing My Summer Sanctuary
To truly embrace this lifestyle, I’ve carved out a physical space in my home dedicated entirely to my offline life.
I call it my tiny sanctuary.
It’s a small corner of my room on the floor and declared it a screen-free zone (yes, I love sitting on floor sometimes 🙈).
That corner on the floor is my analog island.
When I sit there, I leave the digital world on the charging dock. I bring any scripture to read or my green tea, or nothing at all.
Having this dedicated space lowers the barrier to rest. Since my sanctuary is always waiting for me, perfectly arranged and incredibly inviting, choosing the analogue path has become the most appealing option in my house.
My Analog Evening Wind Down
The way I end my day dictates the quality of my rest.
The analogue evening is a gift I give to my future self. It begins with me watching an episode of Vrindavan saints or something soulful rather than straining my eyes over reels.
It’s more like a transition before I shut down the device.
And once the screen is off, that’s it.
I spend time playing with my cat and patting her, and a take a few long, deep breaths and gently massage my eyes to release the strain of the day.
By the time I actually close my eyes, I am no longer buzzing with the residual energy of the internet. I am tired, grounded, and deeply rooted in the quiet of my own room with my loved ones.
Embracing the Slow Hobbies
I love activities that yield tangible results and require my patience. I’ve been thinking a lot about baking bread from scratch. Think of the tactile sensation of kneading dough it will bring.
Another small change I’ve made is switching to charcoal-free dhoop sticks for my space. I’ve started lighting one in the afternoons. The natural scent is just a much better way to reset the energy of the room than checking a notification on my phone.
These activities are beautiful to me because they have no “audience.” They aren’t for content or for optimization. They are for the pure joy of creation.
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Moving Forward with Intention
Whenever I feel a bit overwhelmed or disconnected, I look at my hands and ask myself what I can actually touch in that moment. I am looking for more weight and texture in my daily life, the kind of things that feel messy, beautiful, and real.
I want to build a life where my physical experiences are so rich that the digital world just becomes a tool I use, rather than the place where I actually live. I want to see my books getting dog-eared and worn from use. I want my evenings to stay quiet and screen-free.
For me, analog maximalism is just about celebrating being alive in the real world and being grateful for the senses as we human have.
It is finally time for me to log off, feel the gratitude, and get the kind of deep, restorative rest that I actually deserve.
