There’s a quiet magic in watching someone melt butter over a stove, not for a recipe, but as a ritual passed down through generations. I remember standing in my grandmother’s kitchen as a child, the smell of clarified butter filling the air, and thinking, “This is what home feels like.” That same warmth and intentionality radiates from a recent video capturing a family in Iran as they prepare for a celebration and a dental trip. It’s not just about the tasks—it’s about the rhythm of life that connects us to our roots, our loved ones, and the simple pleasures of making something from scratch.
What strikes me most is how this family weaves together the mundane and the profound. A mother melting butter, a son heading to the dentist, a father building a chair—these aren’t separate events. They’re threads in the same tapestry of daily life. In our fast-paced world, we often forget that every moment holds meaning if we’re present enough to see it. This video is a gentle reminder that slow living isn’t about doing nothing; it’s about doing everything with intention.
The Philosophy
At its core, this video embodies the philosophy of slow living—a conscious choice to prioritize connection over efficiency, tradition over convenience, and quality over quantity. The family doesn’t rush through their day. They pause to squeeze pennyroyal, to check the stiffness of butter, to ball curds by hand. Each action is deliberate, rooted in a history that values patience and care.
I’ve spent years exploring minimalism, biohacking, and various wellness trends, but nothing has grounded me like the principles of slow living. It’s not a new concept—it’s as old as humanity. But in an age of notifications and hustle culture, it feels revolutionary. The shift happened when I realized that my to-do list wasn’t the enemy; the way I approached it was. Instead of trying to do more in less time, I started asking, “What deserves my full attention right now?”
This family’s approach to their new home celebration mirrors that. They don’t just buy furniture; they build it. They don’t just cook; they engage in the entire process from butter melting to curd balling. It’s messy, it’s time-consuming, and it’s deeply fulfilling. That’s the philosophy—finding joy in the labor, not just the result.
The Practice
How does this actually play out in daily life? Let’s break down the practices I observed in the video and how you can adapt them.
First, there’s the art of traditional food preparation. The mother melts butter slowly, letting it separate into local oil and a residue called Bontu. She explains that local oil is more expensive than butter because of the labor involved. This isn’t a quick process—it requires attention and patience. She also prepares Shole-Duwa, a soup made with buttermilk, and uses pennyroyal to balance the richness of fatty foods. The key here is to engage with your food from start to finish. Even if you’re not making butter from scratch, try making a meal from whole ingredients this week. Notice the textures, the smells, the time it takes. It’s a form of meditation.
Second, the family integrates home improvement into their routine. Milad and his father build a chair for Shadmehr, the young boy in the family. They measure, saw, and nail with care, discussing the need for long nails and sturdy construction. Later, they paint a table to prevent rot and fix a refrigerator. This isn’t just about saving money—it’s about taking ownership of your environment. I’ve found that when I repair or create something with my hands, I feel more connected to my space. Start small: fix a loose drawer, paint a piece of furniture, or build a simple shelf. The act of creation is grounding.
Third, the family balances multiple tasks without losing their cool. Ghadir needs to go to Isfahan for his teeth covers, but he doesn’t leave until the morning’s work is done. The mother coordinates the butter, the soup, and the packing, all while keeping an eye on Shadmehr. They don’t use calendars or apps—they rely on a shared rhythm and verbal check-ins. You can replicate this by creating a morning routine that prioritizes your most meaningful tasks before diving into the day’s demands.
Real Talk
Let’s be honest: slow living isn’t always picturesque. The video shows moments of frustration—the butter isn’t stiffening fast enough, the nails are too short, the color bucket is missing. Ghadir jokes about going alone to the dentist, hinting at the loneliness that can creep in even during family gatherings. There’s also the physical toll: the mother’s hands are busy, the father is working in the heat, and the young boy Shadmehr is told to stay away from the ladder for safety.
What didn’t work for me when I tried to adopt this lifestyle? I romanticized it. I thought that if I just slowed down, everything would feel peaceful. But the reality is that slow living can feel inefficient. You might spend two hours making butter when you could buy it in ten minutes. You might build a wobbly chair because you didn’t have the right tools. The key is to embrace imperfection. The chair in the video isn’t perfect—the mother notes that the table is loose—but it’s made with love. That matters more than a flawless product.
Another challenge is the social expectation to be productive. When I started cooking from scratch, friends would ask, “Why don’t you just order in?” It took time to explain that the process itself was the point. If you’re trying this lifestyle, expect pushback from others—and from your own inner critic. Give yourself permission to be slow.
The Transformation
What changes after adopting this approach? The most profound shift I’ve noticed is a deeper sense of connection—to food, to space, and to people. In the video, the family doesn’t just eat together; they prepare together. The mother asks for help squeezing pennyroyal, the father calls Shadmehr to hold the saw, and they all laugh when Ghadir jokes about needing company. These moments build a fabric of shared experience that no takeout meal can replicate.
Before I embraced slow living, I felt like I was always catching up. After, I felt like I was living my life rather than managing it. The video captures this beautifully: the mother says, “Life has been simpler in the past. Nowadays, it is harder.” But she’s not complaining—she’s acknowledging that simplicity requires effort. The transformation isn’t about having more time; it’s about using the time you have more meaningfully.
Unexpected benefits include better mental health. When you’re focused on melting butter or sawing wood, you’re not scrolling through your phone. You’re present. I’ve found that my anxiety decreases when I engage in hands-on tasks. The video’s family seems to know this instinctively. They don’t multitask; they sequence their day with natural flow.
Adapting It For You
You don’t need to live on a farm in Iran to adopt these practices. Here’s how to customize slow living for your life:
If you’re a city dweller with limited space, focus on food. Try making one thing from scratch each week—bread, yogurt, or a simple soup. Use a slow cooker or a Dutch oven to build flavor over time. If you’re on a tight budget, start with repair. Instead of throwing away a broken chair, watch a YouTube tutorial and fix it. The video shows that the family uses thrifted carpets and salvaged materials. You can do the same.
If you’re a busy professional, integrate slow moments into your existing routine. Wake up 15 minutes earlier to sip tea without your phone. Cook a meal on Sunday that you can enjoy throughout the week. The key is to choose one practice and stick with it for 30 days. Don’t try to overhaul your entire life at once.
For families, involve everyone. Assign age-appropriate tasks—the video shows Shadmehr holding tools and helping with the butter. Even if it’s messy, the shared experience builds bonds. If you live alone, invite a friend over to cook or build together. Community is a core part of slow living.
Start Here
Ready to try it? Here are three small steps you can take this week:
1. **Make one meal from scratch.** Choose a recipe that requires at least 30 minutes of active preparation. As you cook, notice the smells, textures, and sounds. Don’t rush. Eat without distractions.
2. **Repair one item in your home.** It could be a loose button, a squeaky door, or a chipped mug. Use tools you already have. The act of fixing something yourself builds confidence and reduces waste.
3. **Have a tech-free hour.** Put your phone in another room and spend that hour doing something with your hands—gardening, knitting, or even just folding laundry slowly. Notice how your mind settles.
These small steps won’t transform your life overnight, but they will give you a taste of what slow living feels like. And that taste might just change everything.
