When we first started homeschooling, all we had was time, our garden, and ourselves. It was incredible! We could craft our days the way we wanted. I had a newborn at the time so this worked perfectly for us. These slow, unhurried days where we followed ourselves had such an impact on us back then that I make sure we integrate these days of “nothing” within our scheduled classes, catch-ups, and excursions.

Why “nothing” days are the most important

We rolled out of bed when we felt like it; we took two hours to prep and cook breakfast; we read 10 picture books together; we spent two hours in the garden; and, more importantly, we went with our own personal flow. To me, these days are imperative to our rhythm and dare I say, foundational. These slow homeschooling days make it possible for us to weave in the other days where we have scheduled classes, workshops or meetups. We might have had four minutes of structured learning, and that’s okay. This isn’t wasted time; it’s the time needed to change the pace and follow our souls slowly into a day designed for what we need in that moment. When we give ourselves room to breathe, we give ourselves the gift of time. Time with ourselves, time with our kids, sacred time in our own space to recharge, refuel, and realign.

The clock we didn’t agree to

Who says homeschooling needs to emulate a school calendar or schedule? It can take some unlearning to move away from that notion, but once you realise there isn’t any school bell guiding you towards your children’s rhythm, a genuine freedom takes over. You are your child’s leader, their guide, the keeper of the rhythm they anchor to. They need your presence and leadership to feel safe and grounded within themselves.

Presence isn’t the consolation prize

Being there, whole and unhurried, is the learning and growth no curriculum promises. On the nothing days, I’m not measuring myself against anyone—not the school down the road, not the family whose feed looks fuller than mine. I’m showing up for my kids, tending my own needs, living to my own standards and no one else’s. And I’ve come to see that presence itself is the thing I’m passing on—not because I teach it, but because they watch me live it.

What your kids will actually keep

Yes, those scheduled days can be useful and have deep meaning in our lives—but what if these “nothing” days were just as meaningful? What if we thought of them as opportunities for connection, with our children and with ourselves? These slower homeschooling days can be jam-packed with connection and self-care. They can be child-led too, giving our kids the gift of time to themselves, within their own space—the freedom to follow their interests, calm their nervous systems, and build presence around the things that light them up. There’s something in the garden, in the trees, in the dirt under small fingernails, that settles a child in a way no lesson can. And there’s the quiet magic of handwork—a paintbrush, a needle, a lump of clay—the way making something with your hands brings your whole self back into the room.

Through not having a plan

Through not having a plan, my daughter discovered her love of reading. Through not having a plan, my other daughter fostered her love of creating art. With a wide open space of time, we are constantly cooking new recipes at home, having long chats with our neighbours in the garden and going for spontaneous walks around our property. We are taking the time to pause with our own personal recipes of self-connection. These are the habits that anchor a life. The days that looked like nothing were the ones doing the most.

If your evenings feel as rushed as your days, my Evening Family Reset Checklist is a gentle way to build one small pocket of calm into your evening.

And when those quiet days start to feel heavy rather than spacious, I share five ways to lighten your homeschool load—small shifts that create room to breathe again. For the days you’re running on empty, these nervous system reset habits help me find my way back to myself.