When life offers us challenges naturally we want to get to the other side quickly, restore normal life and continue as usual. But what if that isn’t possible? What if the stressor continues, beyond our control and we can’t see an end to the stormy seas in front of us? (like being in the midst of a poly-crisis)
How do we still allow space for joy, possibility, awe, and wonder when life feels unbearably heavy?
There’s an unspoken assumption that if we’re "doing life right," we should’ve cracked the code - that the hard stuff shouldn’t feel so hard, sadness and sorrow shouldn’t be regular visitors and we should be living a peaceful and calm existence.
But that isn’t life. Life is magical and messy. It holds all the colours, all the contradictions, it’s full of aliveness and aliveness contains anger and fear and pain alongside unbridled happiness and comfortable neutrality.
The lesson (I believe) isn’t about perfecting ourselves or aiming for the unattainable ‘happy place’ but it’s about how we meet ourselves in each moment, with grace and compassion.
It’s not about rushing to fix ourselves (because we are not broken), and there are no somatic hacks or self-care routines that can erase systemic injustice.
Instead, it’s a continual practice - learning how to sit alongside the gritty, tired, anxious, despairing, and lonely parts of ourselves with the same kindness we offer our hopeful, and light-filled moments.
So, this is where I break out a 10-point list of how to navigate the hard times, right? A set of ‘things to do’ to make it easier?
I wish it were that simple.
What I can offer is this: we’re not meant to do this alone.
Healing is relational. We are not separate from each other or from the natural world - we’re an interwoven living ecosystem.
We need people to walk alongside us, to steady us when the ground feels unsteady. We need the heartbeat of community, to be seen and held. We need reminders that even in the absence of hope, there’s still connection.
Our modern world pulls us forcefully away from relationship. In moments of struggle, returning to togetherness - prioritizing connection over everything else - is what holds us.
Our healing is a process of returning to ourselves and each other again and again, rooted in reciprocity, care, and belonging.
If I can offer one small and simple practice, the question I always return to when everything feels like a whirlpool, it’s this…
Pausing, hand on body listening for the quiet answer:
What support do I need right now?
The answer to this question isn’t always clear or easy and it can be hard to listen to the response because it often means putting ourselves first when we’re so used to prioritising others’ needs beyond our own.
Sometimes, support looks like reaching out to a trusted friend or community, allowing ourselves to be held in our sorrow. Sometimes, it’s grounding in movement or nature, letting the trees hold what we cannot, and sometimes, it’s allowing ourselves to be still, feeling the waves of emotion ebb and flow and allowing space for them to exist too.
What I do know with great certainty is that support is never about “going it alone.” It’s about allowing ourselves to be held, to soften into receiving care, to remember that support is available and so very necessary.
This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot as I’ve reshaped the way I share my work. If any of this resonates, I’d love to invite you to explore more of these ideas - you can find them woven throughout my newly updated website.
If you have any thoughts or questions I’d love to receive them ❤️
other things you might be interested in:
I currently have limited space for new 1-1 clients you can find the information about coaching with me HERE
If you enjoy the practices I share here you might want to sign up to Moments of Connection: 30 recordings and daily journal prompts to edge you towards greater body connection for €30 HERE
My seasonal membership also called Reclaiming Home will be open again in May - you can join the waitlist HERE
You can follow me on Instagram HERE
PS: If you enjoyed this post you might want to read my last post on creating a rhythm with rest below ⬇️
Teetering on the edge
Over the past weeks, life in my corner of the world has been feeling very urgent and full. The dreaded 3am wakings have been more frequent (iykyk) and I find myself lying in the darkness making endless lists, not quite mustering the energy to get up and write anything down before I eventually drift back to sleep.
So beautifully shared, it’s so comforting to read your words xxx
I really loved to read this, Sara! It really resonated with me. ✨