The Art of Being Gentle With Yourself

Finding rhythms that steady when your world gets shaken.

Well, these last few weeks have been a whirlwind I didn’t sign up for.

Several weeks ago I started a new medication to help my brain with its dopamine issues from my TBI in 2018.

After a few days on this med, I was whisked off to my local ER beneath some twirly lights because it caused my blood pressure to spike to 200/100+.

I am fine. My blood pressure came down. And needless to say, this drug has now joined a litany of others that fill 2 full pages in single-spaced 10-point font.

I got my hopes up that this time there might be an easy answer. But alas, there was not. And truthfully… I’m still navigating that.

Instead, I’ve been getting near-daily lessons on the need to be gentle with myself and steady my rhythms.

To find the supportive practices that help my brain’s dopamine issues in other ways.

Practices that are slower and harder and far more frustrating than having a pill do the heavy lifting.

I’ve been forced to slow down and lean hard into the handmade and tactile work of making and simplifying the world around me.

I’m currently creating my dream homestead apothecary pantry in my garage.

That’s a fancy, romantic, dopamine-inducing way to say I’m organizing my canned goods and cleaning out my closet. You can’t make nutritious food if you can’t find it.

My phone’s color now turns off at 8 PM. I promise Instagram is not nearly as engaging in grayscale. My digital shopping apps have been deleted or get turned off with the color and can only be accessed through enough hoops to qualify as a circus act.

When your brain is dopamine-starved, guardrails and steady routines become lifelines.

But I’m finding steady doesn’t mean stationary, stuck, or stagnant. It’s simply the ability to return to my center after I’ve been shaken.

Steadiness is not perfection. It’s about presence grounding us enough to get our footing for the next right step.

Steadiness is not the absence of uncertainty. Rather, it’s learning to breathe and swim inside of it.

Steady is resilient. It is about being rooted, not rigid.

In a world where things feel like they just keep spinning faster and are more disconnected than ever, steadiness is a survival skill.

In a time when digital automation and AI seem to be taking over so many spaces, I have found life in the crispy, silk-smooth pages of my Hobonichi planner.

As the internet becomes abuzz with productivity systems and 2026 planners, viral steals and deals, and so much noise, I’m writing in the quiet of the midnight hours.

Pouring words onto pages by hand in a growing stack of tattered and well-loved notebooks.

The more my brain forces me to make choices toward a gentler way of doing things, the more I become aware of how our productivity tech-bro culture is built on practices that do violence to our well-being.

This is especially true for those of us who have chronic health issues, spicy nervous systems, or caregiving responsibilities.

We are not machines to be calibrated with a set of optimal outputs.

I’m going to say that again. And yes, I’m going to bold too many words.

You are not a machine to be optimized. You are a human being created to be loved.

You are not a pez dispenser. You are not a commodity to be mined. You are not a problem to be solved.

You are a human being made for love. Designed to live in rhythm with the seasons of your life journey and the natural world.

When we choose steady presence over frenetic productivity, we choose a life that isn’t focused on proving our worth.

Then we can focus on becoming who we really are.

In a season that is a flurry with expectations and endless to-do lists, friend, you have permission to choose presence over productivity, performance, and perfection.

Wonder is found in the imperfect, ordinary moments when we slow down enough to recognize and welcome it.

In flour-streaked counters and haphazard gingerbread houses. Faux cardboard ones count too.

In favorite movies and steaming cups of hot chocolate. In cookies that come out slightly singed but are still baked with love.

Wonder shows up quietly in the space between exhales, reminding us we don’t have to rush through our lives as if every day is an emergency.

It isn’t about perfection. It is about finding the path home to ourselves.

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🎉 I’m hosting a live, half-day creative retreat on Dec. 4th!

Turn planning your 2026 into a creative playdate with friends!

This is a safe, fun, supportive space to help you design your year from inspiration and intention, not overwhelm and exhaustion.

Maybe you’ve tried all the “best” practices and bought the fancy planners only to feel like they shut your creativity down. 🙋🏻‍♀️ Me too.

You are not the problem. You’re not broken. You just need an approach that meets you where you are.

There is zero planning shame here.

This is about finding what works for you not replicating your favorite creator’s 10-part planning system that completely overwhelms you before you even get started. Oh wait… maybe that’s just me. 🫣

We’ll be covering things like:

✨ How to understand your inspiration process
✨ Ways to build your very own inspiration archive
✨ Brain hacks to get through overwhelm
✨ Fun ways to “plan” that feel like creative play
✨ And we’ll get started together!

Here’s the link to find out more ⬇️.