What if rest is how you get there?

On ambition, slowing down, and learning to enjoy the life you’re building along the way.
4-5 minute read

Sunday mornings are reserved for strolling at the Farmers Market ♡

I wanted to write this because I think when we encourage people to pursue their dreams, we often skip over the journey.

And the journey is arguably the hardest part.

Every day can look different. On the days when you don’t feel particularly positive or productive, it’s easy to wonder if you’re making any ground at all. You start questioning whether the thing you’re building even matters at the scale you’ve imagined it.

Sometimes I think that internal back-and-forth is more capable of keeping us from the destination than any of the obstacles we’re actually worried about.

A little over two months ago, I had the idea for Under the California Sky, my Summer 2026 publication.

The truth?

Most of it came together the week before the deadline I had set for myself.

And that frustrated me because the process felt completely different from my previous two publications.

With those, I was excited.
Ambyr Things was in a really busy season, everything felt like it was moving, and my instinct was familiar: hunker down, hustle, get it done.

This time, if I had to describe the difference in one word, it would be:

Rest.

And today, I’m incredibly proud that’s the word.

Because it makes so much of what I’ve been talking about this year true for me, too.

Learning to rest has kicked my butt.

I’ve operated with a hustle mentality for so long that doing anything else can still feel strange.

So when I felt myself wanting to slow down during the exact time I thought I should have been leisurely putting this publication together, I did something the old me would have hated.

I gave in.

I rested.

And then I watched the days go by while I did things I once would have considered silly or meaningless.

Pretty, maybe. But meaningless.

I started House of the Dragon. Then I started rewatching Game of Thrones because apparently I need something to sustain me while we wait to find out what these dragons are going to do.

I tended to my herb garden and started making things with what I grew. I spent time outside with my son and husband before the summer temperatures became what they are now. I went to the farmers market every Sunday and made things from what I found.

I drank a lot of tea.

I painted my nails. Listened to music. Fell in love with a book.

I put my pajamas on almost immediately after the workday ended.

And sometimes?

I just laid down.

Without guilt.

I actually enjoyed it.

How crazy that I used to think so much of this was pretty, but meaningless.

Because you know what happened?

When it was time to produce, I was sharper than I’ve ever been.

Two months earlier, I had drafted a list of chapters I thought belonged in Under the California Sky. I spent those two months casually turning them over in my mind. Did they make sense? Did they reflect my life right now? Did they belong in this publication at all?

When I finally sat down at my computer and looked at that list again, I started deleting.

There was almost no debate.

I knew what belonged. I knew what didn’t. I knew what I wanted the publication to feel like.

After enough rest, it became surprisingly easy to look at everything in front of me and distinguish what served the vision from what was just noise.

And the actual creating felt different, too.

In the past, photography could become a production. I was planning shoots, chasing the right light, working around nap times, trying to get the photo before something melted or wilted or the sun moved.

This time, when I wanted to make something from the publication for my family, I just made it.

I made the rosemary simple syrup and Arnold Palmer. I took my photographs outside, closed my phone, and then sat in the same spot and drank it.

It was delicious.

I gave some to my husband. He loved it, so I made him one too.

I made focaccia from scratch. I photographed it, and then we ate it. My son may have eaten more pieces than I did.

I used that focaccia to recreate an avocado toast my husband and I had at the Ritz the morning after our wedding. Years later, here I am, making my own version in our kitchen and serving it to the same beautiful man.

That isn’t pretty but meaningless.

That is me enjoying my actual life.

And that’s what I’ve been after this entire time.

Disfruta la vida.

Enjoy life.

It’s one of the first phrases I learned when studying Español, and now, it’s something I say to my son all the time.

And somewhere in the making of Under the California Sky, I felt grateful to be taking my own advice.

I think we can become so consumed by the journey—and so focused on eventually reaching the destination—that we miss the enjoyment available to us along the way.

Maybe you’re building something right now. Maybe you’re laying the foundation for a dream that still feels much bigger in your head than it does in your hands.

Please don’t let the slower parts convince you that you’ve stopped moving.

And maybe don’t even call them slumps.

Rest really is part of the process.

If 80% of my process this time looked like resting, living, cooking, reading, gardening, going to the farmers market, watching television, and being with my family, when it was finally time to work, I was clear enough that the remaining 20% was all I needed to cross the finish line.

In the past, I gave these publications 120% and needed two or three days afterward to feel like myself again.

This time?

I finished the most beautiful publication I’ve made yet.

Then I got a good night’s sleep.

The next morning, I was happy. I was present. And I was incredibly proud of what I had made.

I guess the takeaway here is that maybe we don’t have to scale the mountain all at once.

How do you eat an elephant?

One bite at a time.

And apparently, sometimes you can take a nap between bites.

Disfruta la vida.

With Love,
Ambyr

Continue Under the California Sky

This reflection came out of creating my Summer 2026 publication, Under the California Sky — 41 pages of original recipes, stories, inspired finds, and everyday moments from a summer I enjoyed living while I was documenting it.

Inside, you’ll find the rosemary Arnold Palmer, golden same-day focaccia, the avocado toast inspired by our honeymoon, farmers market mornings, life at home, and so much of what reminded me that the life happening along the way is part of the dream, too.

Explore Under the California Sky →

Complimentary for Ambyr Things subscribers.