Have you ever reached the end of the day and realised you can’t remember much of it? Our minds can become so busy worrying, planning, replaying conversations or trying to solve problems that we barely notice the day unfolding around us. For many years, that was my life.
This week, while I was teaching Resourcing Me, I noticed something. As I sat at the front of the room, I became aware of the French doors open behind me. A gentle breeze drifted through the room, sounding the wind chimes. Behind the chimes I could hear the birds singing.
Then I noticed something else. I could feel my inner smile, then the smile on my face. All of me was smiling, even my heart. It was such a simple moment, and yet it stayed with me for the rest of the day.
Later that day I reflected on this experience. There’s an undeniable inner calm that’s there within me now, most of the time. I don’t say that lightly.
Eight years ago, I don’t think I would have noticed any of those things. Not because they weren’t there. But because my mind couldn’t afford to notice them. Living alongside Chris’s alcoholism meant my attention was constantly pulled towards what might happen next. My mind was trying to protect me and my kids.
Looking for danger.
Solving problems before they happened.
Staying one step ahead.
Looking back, I realise that if those birds had been singing back then, I probably wouldn’t have heard them. Not because they weren’t there. But because my nervous system was working so hard to keep me safe that it had very little capacity left for anything else.
The level of bird song didn’t change.
My capacity did.
And that didn’t happen overnight.
Looking back, life did become different. I was no longer living with the daily unpredictability of Chris’s alcoholism. But my nervous system didn’t know that yet. It had spent years anticipating danger. Through practising mindfulness and self-compassion, it slowly learnt that it no longer had to stay on constant alert.
Small daily steps, little by little, I learnt that I didn’t have to believe every anxious thought my mind offered me. I discovered that I could respond to myself with kindness instead of criticism. And I’m still learning. I’m still softening.
Self-compassion hasn’t given me a different life.
It has given me the capacity to experience more of the life I already have.
Self-compassion gradually creates more space. Space…
to notice.
to breathe.
to choose.
to smile.
to simply be.
There are still difficult days. There are still moments of uncertainty, sadness and fear. More and more often, I’m learning to respond with compassion.
The difficult moments haven’t disappeared. They are simply no longer the whole story. That’s why I’m so looking forward to our new July theme: Grounding & Rest: Finding Your Way Back to Being.
For many of us, the present moment still contains pain, uncertainty or heartache. Even with our difficulties, our minds don’t have to be trapped by threat every waking minute.
This month we’ll gently explore how self-compassion can help us find steadier ground and ease the difficulty we feel. We’ll explore how we can move from a mind that’s constantly scanning for threat towards one that also has the capacity to notice moments of safety, beauty, connection and joy.
Not because we’re ignoring what’s hard. But because what’s hard isn’t all that’s here.
Your Self-care Invitation this Week
This week, see if you can notice one thing you normally miss.
Perhaps it’s birdsong.
The breeze through an open window.
The smell of fresh coffee.
The warmth of the shower.
The colour of the flowers on your walk.
You don’t need to go looking for something extraordinary. Simply notice what has been there all along. If your mind wanders, gently bring it back. Again… and again… Not because you’re trying to stop thinking. But because you’re gently creating more space to simply be.
Perhaps that’s where grounding begins.
Not by changing our lives, but by gently changing the way we meet them.
You Don’t Have to Do This Alone
In the Blossome Community, we know self-care can feel impossible, especially for those of us who have spent years caring for others, managing crises, or putting our own needs last. But healing often begins when we learn to offer ourselves some of the kindness, understanding, and appreciation we so freely give to others.
Whether you join us at a self-care activity, a Resourcing Me session, or connect through the Bloom Self-Care Hub, you’ll find people learning to do exactly that. Join us.
Kim Moore is the Founder of Blossome CIC. She lost her husband Chris to alcoholism in 2017. She faced a difficult journey while raising 2 children alone, with her family living on the opposite side of the world. Kim founded the Blossome Community and The Pathway to Peace healing journey so no one would have to feel alone while enduring the trauma of a loved one’s battle with alcoholism or addiction. She is also on a mission to end the generational cycle of alcoholism and addiction in families.