We talk so much about what drains us. The endless scroll, the bad sleep, the week that somehow already feels heavy by Tuesday. But lately I’ve been thinking more about the opposite: what actually gives me energy? Not the fake kind that comes from a third coffee or a stressful deadline — but the real, quiet kind that makes you feel like yourself again.
I made a little list. Nine things. Some obvious, some I had to be reminded of. All of them real.
Sunlight
This one sounds almost too simple, but it genuinely changes everything for me. Even ten minutes outside in the morning — before the phone, before the to-do list — does something to my whole system. Sunlight regulates your circadian rhythm, boosts serotonin and just makes the world feel a little more manageable. I try to get outside before 10 AM when I can. On grey Stockholm mornings I open all the blinds and pretend.
Music
I am a completely different person depending on what I’m listening to. Music has this weird, immediate access to your nervous system — it can calm you down, hype you up, make you cry on the subway (just me?). I have playlists for different energy needs: slow mornings, focused studying, walks that feel like main character moments. Honestly curating those playlists is a form of self care I don’t talk about enough.
Consistent Sleep
Not just more sleep — consistent sleep. Going to bed and waking up at roughly the same time every day is one of the highest-ROI things you can do for your energy levels. I’m not perfect at this (hello, one more episode at midnight), but when I actually stick to it for a week I feel the difference so clearly. Your body loves rhythm. Give it rhythm.
Digital Detox
I used to think I wasn’t that bad with my phone. Then I checked my screen time. The thing with constant connectivity is that it keeps your brain in a low-level alert state all day — always scanning, always half-distracted. Even a small detox helps: no phone for the first hour of the morning, Do Not Disturb during dinner, leaving it in another room when I’m reading. The relief is immediate and a little embarrassing.
Cleansing
This one is about ritual as much as it is about hygiene. A proper shower, washing your face at the end of the day, a bath when you really need to reset — cleansing is a physical way of marking transitions. I notice that when I skip my evening skincare routine I feel more “unfinished” somehow. There’s something deeply grounding about caring for your body in a slow, intentional way.
Whole Foods
I’m not going to lecture anyone about nutrition because I genuinely believe in food freedom. But I have noticed — repeatedly, stubbornly — that when I eat mostly whole, real foods I have more sustained energy throughout the day. Less crashing, less brain fog, less standing in the kitchen at 3 PM wondering why I’m exhausted. I eat flexitariskt and cook from scratch when I have time. It doesn’t have to be complicated.
Herbal Teas
A warm cup of something. That’s it. That’s the whole tip. But genuinely: chamomile in the evening, ginger when I feel slow, peppermint when I need to focus. Herbal teas are one of those small, almost embarrassingly cheap things that make a real difference to how I feel. The ritual of making them — the warmth in your hands, the smell — is half the point.
Reading
Not scrolling. Reading. There’s a difference in how your brain feels afterward that I couldn’t explain scientifically but know to be completely true. Books — whether fiction or psychology or something in between — give me something that the internet never does: depth. A sense of having actually gone somewhere. I try to read at least twenty minutes before bed instead of my phone and it’s probably the single best habit swap I’ve made.
Mindful Meditation
I resisted this one for a long time because it felt like something people performed rather than actually did. But even five minutes of sitting quietly — focusing on breathing, noticing thoughts without following them — genuinely changes my baseline. I don’t have a perfect practice. Sometimes I do it on the yoga mat, sometimes just sitting on the kitchen floor with Fikon on my lap. It counts either way.
The common thread in all of these? They’re slow. None of them are hacks. They require a little intention and a little consistency — and then they give back so much more than you put in.
