This blog feels like a permission slip to quietly rebel against performance. Quietly because this isn’t about showing off. It encourages doing work in layers, slowing down enough to see what’s hidden, and choosing a solid life over a shiny life.
January 1st
My husband and I built a sofa table using scrap wood.
I got the idea a few days before and was hyped to see a prototype—so we just went for it.
The design isn’t fancy.
Just practical.
And that’s kinda just right… for now. 😆
January 2nd
We had a plumber and a contractor come out for quotes.
We need to replace some old pipes outside that may contain lead. Ugh. 🥴
The contractor checked our floors.
A small section of the kitchen floor was starting to sink.
Our house is almost 100 years old.
So, we’re moving slow and steady.
No rushing.
No panic.
Just moving with purpose and intention.
January 3rd
We had our kitchen floor repaired.
They crawled under the house
— and raised the sunken section.
Watching the floor lift was wild to see.
While they were down there, they found another leak.
Different room, new discovery.
Because above the surface I had no clue.
We handled one leak back in October.
That project looked like…
✅ replacing leaky pipes
✅ removing rotting wood
✅ rebuilding wall studs
✅ adding new drywall
Thankfully, we got it ALL done in one day.
We’ll handle this new leak next.
A little backstory
I gutted this kitchen almost 20 years ago.
Floors and all.
Down to the joists.
I’m not sure why that area dipped.
But the dip led us to something we needed to find.
And that’s more than okay with me.
Here’s more good news:
The kitchen floor is solid.
No rot.
No active leaks there.
So now?
We’re moving forward relieved, not rushed.
Excited, not burdened. ✨
The wall behind the fridge
The floor was finished.
The house was quiet.
And that’s when I saw it…
I’d already painted the kitchen before the new year.
But only the areas that were easy to reach.
The parts I could clearly see.
Not the walls hidden behind appliances.
That was fine…
Until my husband moved a tall cabinet.
Then the refrigerator.
And wow.
The wall was screaming, FIX ME.
Two different colors.
A sharp line between what I’d worked on and what I’d missed.
A lightbulb went off
That’s when it hit me…
People do this too.
In life.
But especially online.
💡 We tend to work on what people see.
💡 What’s accessible.
💡 What photographs well.
💡 What makes us look like we’re doing ‘great.’
And I get it.
Social media invites that. Then rewards it.
That side of social media can miss me.
That side where everything’s so pretty, so polished, so perfect. 🤮🚫
☝🏽 That’s tiring. That’s anxiety-city.
I’m all for hard work and pushing through.
But chasing perfection?
Nope. That feels like a lie I don’t want to live.
I’m drawn to what’s real.
The seen and unseen moments.
The work that yields results quickly.
And the work that doesn’t.
A story that encourages me
This story is about someone I respect deeply.
From the outside, their life looks like quiet wealth.
🙌🏽 stability
🙌🏽 security
🙌🏽 ease and peace
Then, one day…
They shared a few details I’d never known.
Before they built their home,
all four of their children slept in one bedroom.
When they finally moved into their forever home, it was mostly empty.
They moved in with a bed.
One of their wedding bands?
Got it from a pawn shop.
That story shocked me.
Because I only ever saw their ‘finished version.’
What I didn’t see were the tight seasons.
The slow build.
The years between then, now —
and the work that wasn’t celebrated. 😭😭
Hearing this part of their story gave me courage.
➡️ To build patiently.
➡️ To value progress over appearance.
➡️ And to refuse the pressure to present a polished life online.
Oversharing isn’t the goal
To be clear…
I’m not suggesting you share everything — online or in real life.
There are parts of my life that will always stay offline.
☝🏽 And that’s healthy. Very healthy.
Some things belong in journals.
Or family photo albums.
Maybe only in the heart or mind.
In quiet chats with loved ones or trustworthy friends.
Translation?
There are some things that should never show up on the internet.
What I am suggesting…
Don’t only work on what the world can see.
Do the unseen work too.
The inconvenient work.
The slow fixes.
The crawlspace kind of care.
Do things OFFLINE that your present and future self will appreciate.
And when you do share online?
✅ Share joy.
❌ Not pressure.
✅ Share what’s real.
❌ Not what you think people want from you.
Put this thought on repeat…
A life doesn’t have to look perfect to be solid. ☝🏽
Welp, that’s all for now.
Here’s to us building a life that’s solid versus shiny.
Seen and unseen.
Online and offline.
One that holds weight.
— but doesn’t rush to impress.
The kind of life that’s built slowly.
Cared for in hidden places.
But solid enough to last—even when no one’s watching.
That’s a choice that feels like freedom.
Catch up with my progress + projects…
The Slow Unfolding of a Reset
I’m Bringing an Old Garden Bench Back to Life
Hi, I’m LOLA ⸻ the creator of offbeat life advice brand, The Smoking Prophet, owner of a growing content agency, and cultivator of life (family first)!
Most days, you can find me at my desk, in my garden, or on the go. My super-social family keeps me on my toes!
Follow The Smoking Prophet to ignite your creativity, grow spiritually, and blaze your own trail online!
2 Comments
Brenda G · at
Loved it. The story. The truth. The authenticity. I found myself breathing deeper. Relaxing in the thought of solid living. Stable.Not necessarily shiny. It resonated. It reminds me of why I struggled being ON. I was genuinely trying to share things but there was a subtle tug to SHINE. Not naturally but out of necessity. If you don’t SHINE they won’t pick you or worse stick with you. I thought I was forming STABLE connections but most of them were SHINY. Thank you AGAIN.
the smoking prophet · at
BRENDA G. your comment just blessed me. i felt this from beginning to end…especially that ‘I thought I was forming STABLE connections but most of them were SHINY.’ you’re inspiring me to write and share more!