The Philosophy
There’s a moment in the song "Lifestyle" by Jason Derulo and Adam Levine that stops me every time. It’s not the beat, though that’s undeniably catchy. It’s the juxtaposition: "Tell me what you like / Everybody knows / Baby, we'll just stay here." On the surface, it’s a pop anthem about luxury and desire. But listen closer, and you’ll hear something deeper—a call to define your own version of a good life, not the one everyone else is living.
I’ve spent over a decade writing about wellness and intentional living, and I’ve realized that the word "lifestyle" has been co-opted by Instagram feeds and sponsored posts. It’s become a highlight reel of expensive coffee, minimalist wardrobes, and perfectly lit morning routines. But the real philosophy behind a meaningful lifestyle isn’t about what you own or how you appear. It’s about the choices you make when no one is watching. It’s the quiet decision to stay present, to curate your days around what genuinely feeds you, and to let go of the rest.
What resonates now, especially in a world of constant comparison, is the idea that lifestyle is not a destination—it’s a practice. It’s the daily act of asking yourself: What do I truly like? And then having the courage to build your life around that answer, even if it looks different from everyone else’s.
The Practice
So how do you actually practice a lifestyle that feels like yours, not a copy? After years of experimenting—and failing—I’ve found that the most effective approach is small, repeatable rituals. Here’s what works for me and for many of the creators I work with.
**Morning anchor.** Before I touch my phone, I spend five minutes in stillness. No agenda, no music. Just sitting with a cup of tea and letting my mind settle. I use a simple app like Headspace for guided breathing, but even a timer works. This isn’t about productivity; it’s about setting a tone of presence before the world rushes in.
**Curated consumption.** I’ve unfollowed accounts that make me feel less than, and I’ve subscribed to newsletters and podcasts that inspire genuine curiosity. I use Notion to track what I read and watch, but the real shift was being ruthless about what I allow into my mental space. If a piece of content doesn’t spark joy or insight, it goes.
**Evening wind-down.** This was the hardest for me. I used to scroll in bed until my eyes burned. Now, I have a physical ritual: I write three things I’m grateful for in a Moleskine journal (the same one for years), and I read a few pages of a novel. No screens. It sounds simple, but it has reshaped my sleep and my dreams.
**Weekly audit.** Every Sunday, I look at my calendar and ask: Did I spend time on things that matter to me? If not, I adjust. This isn’t about perfection—it’s about alignment. I use a simple checklist: Did I move my body? Did I connect with someone I love? Did I create something? Yes/no answers keep me honest.
Real Talk
Let’s be honest: This practice falls apart regularly. There are weeks when I’m traveling, stressed, or just lazy, and I fall back into old habits. The morning stillness gets replaced by checking emails in bed. The curated consumption turns into a YouTube rabbit hole of people I don’t even like. And the evening wind-down? Sometimes it’s just Netflix until I pass out.
What I’ve learned is that the goal isn’t to be perfect—it’s to notice. When I slip, I don’t spiral into guilt. I just say, "Okay, that happened. What can I do right now to come back?" The hardest part is the social pressure. When friends invite you out and you’d rather stay home and journal, or when everyone is chasing a promotion and you’re choosing a slower path, it feels lonely. I’ve lost touch with people who didn’t understand my choices. That’s real.
Another challenge is the fear of missing out (FOMO). Seeing others’ highlight reels can still trigger envy. I’ve had to remind myself that their lifestyle is their own, and mine is mine. Comparison is the thief of joy, but it’s also a thief of authenticity. The practice only works if you keep coming back to your own "tell me what you like."
The Transformation
When I started this intentional practice about three years ago, I was exhausted. My days were a blur of obligations, social media, and noise. I felt like I was performing a version of myself that didn’t exist. The first change was subtle: I started sleeping better. Without the late-night scroll, my mind had space to rest. Then, I noticed I had more energy for creative work—writing, filming, even just daydreaming.
The bigger shift was internal. I became less reactive. When something stressful happened, I took a breath before responding. I started saying no to things that drained me, and yes to things that lit me up—like long walks with no destination, or cooking a meal from scratch. My relationships deepened because I was actually present, not mentally checking my phone.
I remember one afternoon, sitting in my living room with a book, and realizing I felt completely content. No urge to post about it, no need to document. Just being. That was the transformation: from performing a lifestyle to living one. It wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet, and it was mine.
Adapting It For You
One size absolutely does not fit all. If you’re a night owl, don’t force a 5 AM wake-up. If you’re on a tight budget, your rituals don’t need fancy products—a library card and a free meditation app are enough. If you’re an extrovert, your lifestyle might involve more social connection; if you’re an introvert, more solitude. The key is to design your practices around your nature, not against it.
For creators, I suggest filming or writing about your process, not just the polished result. Share the messy mornings, the failed experiments. Your audience will connect with your authenticity. And remember: you can always adjust. I’ve changed my routine dozens of times. What worked in my 30s doesn’t work now, and that’s okay.
Start Here
If you want to try this approach, don’t overhaul your entire life. Start with three small steps this week:
1. **Identify one ritual you can do daily**—it could be as simple as drinking your morning coffee without your phone. Do it for five days.
2. **Unfollow one account that makes you feel inadequate.** Just one. Notice how your mental space shifts.
3. **Ask yourself one question every evening:** Did I do something today that felt like me? Write the answer in a note or journal.
That’s it. No grand changes. Just a gentle nudge toward a life that feels more like yours. Because at the end of the day, the best lifestyle isn’t the one that looks perfect—it’s the one that feels true.
