The Slow-Living Lesson found in how the French Knead Time

Photo by Jim Harris on Unsplash

I made my first loaf of bread last year inspired by this Easy Homemade Bread recipie. It did work and it was easy. But it still took time, which left me thinking; easy isn’t always quick, yet I acknowledge I had hoped it would be.

I thought that an easy bread would be quick. My desire was for the two to be the same but learning they are not, especially not in bread making, had me appreciate that time in areas like bread making, must be honoured. There is no short cut, no way to speed up the process and no way to miss out on the time some things take. You have to live through that passage every so often.

And thank goodness. How aweful would it be if we could rush everything. We would do so thinking it would save us time elsewhere. Now tell me, for every time saving device you have brought into your life, has it given you more time? Not really in my experience. There is simply so much on our agenda that a time saving is only more of something else to do.

And so, bread, sweet delicious time honouring bread hits me right where I knead it to, kneading me back into a slower pace.

Bread is as ancient as human civilization itself, dating back over 30,000 years when our ancestors first began grinding grains into flour. It has been a staple across cultures, from the flatbreads of the Middle East to the dense rye loaves of Scandinavia. Among these, sourdough stands out—not just for its tangy flavor and crusty texture but for its deeply rooted connection to time, care, and tradition.

Making bread is one of humanity’s simplest, most widespread, and rewarding practices. It’s a universal act that transcends borders, uniting us through the shared rhythm of mixing, kneading, and waiting. And within the humble process of making sourdough lies a profound metaphor for life: patience, transformation, and the beauty of simplicity.

In France, a country that reveres bread as an essential art form, sourdough embodies the balance of tradition and creativity. Its rise is a reflection of the French approach to life—one that values savoring the process as much as the outcome.

Photo by Daniel Salgado on Unsplash

Sourdough begins with three elemental ingredients: flour, water, and salt. Yet its true magic comes from the starter—a living culture of wild yeast and bacteria that must be nurtured over time. This process of fermentation transforms the dough, creating a depth of flavor and texture that no shortcut can replicate.

Fermentation is a transformative process that defies haste, whether it’s the slow rise of sourdough dough or the weeks spent crafting miso in Japanese tradition. Like miso, sourdough thrives on a partnership with time, allowing natural elements to work their magic. Both remind us that the best flavors—and the best outcomes in life—emerge when we have the patience to wait and the wisdom to let nature take its course.

In breadmaking, the dough rises on its own schedule, influenced by temperature, environment, and the baker’s care. It’s a process that resists rushing, teaching us to surrender to the natural rhythm of time.

Photo by Tijana Drinic on Unsplash

Sourdough reminds us to slow down in a world that often demands speed. Its rise cannot be hurried. It encourages us to embrace the waiting, to trust the process, and to find joy in the transformation that comes with time.

France, with its reverence for bread and life’s simple pleasures, offers us a guide to slowing down and savoring the journey. Like the rise of sourdough the best things in life take time—and the rewards are worth every moment of waiting.

French culture, with its emphasis on joie de vivre—the joy of life—mirrors the ethos of sourdough. The French savor meals, conversations, and rituals, taking the time to truly experience each moment. Bread, particularly sourdough, becomes not just a food but an expression of this way of life: slow, thoughtful, and deeply satisfying.

One way this is highlighted is by the promenade; an evening stroll. A common habit, especially in smaller towns and cities. It’s an opportunity to enjoy the outdoors, connect with neighbors, and relax after the day’s work.

And so, I’m working towards more savoring too. From those first moments awake to this moment I get to write, savoring all I can in the deep knowing that how I live each moment is how I live my life, and yes, I want to savor it.

Photo by Alex Harmuth on Unsplash

Here are the other ariticles in the series Time Makes the Miso:

• Time Makes the Miso: Japanese inspired life lessons on the power of patience

• Forest Growth and Sisu: the Finnish inspiration of quiet sustained endurance

• A Canadian Approach to Patience Reveals The Treasures in the Heart of Winter

• Why Patience Outshines Virality in Your Substack-or any-Creative Journey