You are allowed to stop holding it all

Sometimes life slows you down before you choose to slow yourself.
This is the part of my story where everything finally got quiet enough for me to hear what my body had been trying to say for decades. Maybe you’re somewhere in that quiet middle too...

I think perhaps this is the middle of my story. The part where everything finally gets to slow down.

This morning I stood at the kitchen bench,
waiting for the kettle to boil, and realised I wasn’t rushing anywhere. No lists. No one needing anything.

Just the sound of water starting to hum.

It hit me how long I’ve lived this way, how many decades I’ve called this level of overgiving (nursing) normal. And now, in the stillness, my body is finally speaking, asking me to stop trying so hard.

The world I built around being 'useful' (needed) is still there, maybe more than ever, but I move through it differently now. Touch what still feels true, and quietly leave what doesn’t.

Some days I still wake up feeling heavy, some days (most days) I feel clearer now, both feel more honest, truer to where I'm at.

I used to call this resignation a pause, a sabbatical for good behaviour (lol), but it isn’t.
It’s my life now. It’s what I really need.

Rest that doesn’t feel like recovery, but like coming home.

Maybe you’re somewhere in the middle of your story too. Not in a crisis, not even in the comeback, just in the the quiet bit that no one ever celebrates. The part where nothing dramatic happens except your absolute truth. Where your body whispers before it needs to scream. Where your work is simply to notice what no longer deserves a front-row seat in your life. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting less noise. Nothing wrong with needing something that’s just well, softer. You’re allowed to stop holding it all. You are also allowed to feel. Just Saying…

A watched kettle never boils. I think perhaps that’s the lesson.