A Slow Continuing

I ended 2025 depressed.

Little joy has followed me through the last 5 months, there’s be a heaviness that I simply couldn't shake no matter how many times I rolled out my Yoga mat or sat with feelings and you would think that December 31st would be a beacon of light banishing the tendrils of depression clinging to my mind. No such luck. Of course there was a time that New Year was full of excitement for me, a clean slate, a fresh start, rules, order. I LOVE organisation.

But something shifted, the childlike awe of new beginnings became declarations of half promises and a nervous system that couldn’t quite keep up with the strict regimes I placed on it. New year now leaves me with a sense of impending doom and an urgency like no other. In fact, as I write this it’s 9am on the second of January and I’ve already spent the morning manically cleaning, finding more things to add to my list and planned a whole new business venture which will never see the light of day because my mind will pick up a new shiny things in half an hour. A strange desperation of wanting everything to be perfect for the year ahead.

There’s a tiredness lingering in my bones, a tiredness that won’t be eased by deep cleaning or a life overhaul, and whilst my brain feels a little less imprisoned, my nervous system is craving safety. So often we exist in a state of survival, high alert, searching for any small confirmation that everything is falling apart and it’s completely exhausting. You don’t need another January of restriction, of monitoring, of berating yourself for not doing better, BEING better. I don’t think any of us need to fill our time with convincing ourselves that we aren’t enough, instead maybe we start to explore a slow continuing.

It’s my intention to slip into this year quietly, unnoticed by the heavy messaging of being the best version of myself and just, well, be. To take one tentative step in front of the other and show up with compassion instead of cruelness dressed up as self improvement. No big moves, no crazy promises, just a gentle and steady knowledge that I am showing up for myself in the way I need. My body doesn’t need restriction, it needs a safe place to land. My mind doesn't need to be forced into seeing the world differently, it needs to start exploring what joy means in this current moment.

So here’s to softness, to embodied movement, to listening to my body and the subtle messages it sends my way. Here’s to quietly continuing.

Do It Scared

My body holds quite a bit of fear, sometimes I believe that I received a little too much when traits/emotions were being handed out by the universe.

‘A dash of lover girl energy, a sprinkle of curiosity, a heap of empathy and a whole bucket load of scared.’

I imagine that’s what happened when my consciousness came to be and I have become, dare I say, comfortable with fear being my right hand man. Every yoga class I have taught (Yes even now), every new friendship, every meet up for a coffee, every new experience, every change of routine, I have been a nervous, panic stricken mess. But one thing I won’t do, is let it stop me.

I’ve realised, albeit recently, that my fear has become a little softer. still lingering but not as loudly and I know that what got me to this point was showing up, doing it scared and putting one foot in front of the other even when life felt impossible. The last few years have felt like wading through mud, one heavy lesson after another; my husband having a stroke, not having the best care through his follow ups, having to write up complaints, chase appointments, trips to A & E, meet my own health anxieties that had only been a background character until this point and navigate the normal life of teaching/showing up/existing. Constant reminders to let go of what I couldn’t control, to look my deepest fears right in the eye and whisper ‘okay let’s continue’. Because, honestly if you had told me five years ago what would happen, I would have been convinced that I wouldn’t survive.

We learn on the job right? We meet versions of ourselves that didn't have hope of existing until life comes and smacks us in the face and through this we build resilience, that’s not to say that the scary things are no longer scary, but rather that we can recognise our strength and notice that the one person guiding us through (apart from therapists and dear friends) is ourselves.

Two things I despise that I think is important to mention - The phrase ‘no one is coming to save you’ AND being told I'm brave or strong. why do I hate this? Well, it’s true isn’t it? I don’t want to be told I'm brave, I want to curl into a ball and sob until my heart feels better and yes, there’s space for that but we can’t stay there forever, trust me I tried and as much as people support us, they cannot change the situation or the way we react to the situation, we guide ourselves through every hardship, every fear, every discomfort and through doing that we build new versions of ourselves. We are constantly evolving. That doesn't mean we get it right every time, there’s going to be mistakes and miscommunications.

You do not need to be perfect. More love will come from showing the imperfections than trying to be a perfect entity. You do not need to be free of fear, you just have to keep gently guiding yourself. You do not need to have it all figured out in the first five minutes, you just have to be willing to explore.

Show up scared. Show up with knees trembling, heart fluttering and breathe shallow. Remind yourself of everything you have guided yourself though and will continue to guide yourself through, even when it feels impossible.

Where To Find Happiness

Happiness is not found by demanding that your body changes, it is also not found by demanding that your mind changes.

I have been stuck, stuck within the heaviness of my thoughts for what seems like an eternity now and I have in fact, found myself demanding change and willing happiness to blossom as I click my fingers in vain. As if it were ever that simple. There have been periods of my life where joy has felt distant, but never quite like this. My mind is blurred, motivation is non existent and I find myself leaning into the ever comforting notion that isolation is the only way forward and that no one could possible understand… what a cliche, woe is me moment.

Could I be wrong?

Yes, obviously.

Because, whilst cutting myself off from the rest of humanity seems like the only plausible way out of my pit of depression, it is actually just making me feel worse (shock). We all know that connection and community are beautiful aids when we face struggles and I have told the people I love most not to isolate when they are fighting the darkest corners of their minds. So maybe this post is a step towards reconnection.

I’ve realised that I'm expecting to just stumble upon happiness, probably because it used to feel so much more available. I would chase the quick high of obsessive exercise, controlling food intake, buying clothes, focusing on how I was presenting myself to the world. It gave me a rush, a purpose that quickly faded and in this moment everything has been stripped back, the relationship with my body has healed, I view exercise as something to be enjoyed rather than to change how I look and I have no money to indulge in my shopping habits. I move my body with love, I meditate, I walk, I push myself to do the hobbies that used to fill me up.

But yet happiness seems so distant.

If it’s not found in changing the external, not found in being alone, not found in forcing the mind to be better, then where?

It’s found within intention.

The mindset behind why you are doing something means everything. I’ve been so focused on creating the feeling of joy that I'm completely bypassing the actual moment that I'm in. How will it make me feel after? What’s the point if it’s not obvious right away?

There’s no foundation to build on because I'm so desperate for the outcome.

Happiness is found within intention. The way you approach your morning cup of coffee, the way you interact with those you love, the welcoming of tears as much as you welcome laughter, not glossing over the insignificant moments because you want the big obvious joy. It’s held in the noticing. I don’t think that it’s a base line we should strive to maintain, but rather feeling into each moment, allowing the momentum of joy to ebb and flow because the more we try to hold it, the more fleeting it seems.

So loosen your hold, observe your intention, notice and allow emotions to flow without attaching to the outcome, without becoming them. Because you are more than the feelings that you experience.