We are living with nervous systems in constant survival mode and we have no idea. In fact, we’ve normalised it. The racing heart during work hours, the body aches that arise after sitting in front of screens for too long, the emotional discomfort caused by our disconnection from our bodies and nature, the mental and emotional exhaustion of being everything to everyone – our bodies are raising red flags, but we are too busy to notice.
This isn’t entirely our fault. Modern culture has programmed our brings to perform at hyper speed, so choosing a slower pace can feel like falling behind. It’s something I hear and explore often through my wellbeing platforms, which focus on personal growth and conscious healing. Societal pressure plays its part, too. Many of us grew up on affirmations like “There’s no time for rest,” “Don’t show your vulnerability,” “Be grateful you have that job,” and “Time is money.” Those words shaped a belief system, and that belief system built the lives we’re living now: hyper independent and skilled at handling far too many roles.
Within this system, women especially begin creating, giving and living from our masculine energy – the drive within every person that pushes us to act and provide. In doing so, we silence the feminine – the softness and openness to receive that we’re born with. Returning to balance requires a kind of death and rebirth; a collapse of what we thought was real, so that new foundations can emerge.
I have experienced this twice. The first was professional: walking away from a career in private banking that had begun consuming my mental health and soul, only to find myself bankrupt shortly after. The second came through the deepest heartbreak I’ve ever known: divorce, and the painful act of releasing the man I thought I would grow old with while still loving him. Both left my life in ashes. Both were necessary to recreate myself.
They led me to find my voice as a writer and publish my first book, Finding Softness. Writing it let me remember who I truly was, so I’d never abandon myself again, and release an identity that could no longer hold my heart or the woman I was becoming. Ultimately, it led me home – not through a relationship, a career, or anyone else’s expectations, but within myself.
Our bodies are wise. They know when to ask for pause and change. The moment we create from need instead of joy, our nervous system takes the fall – and our wellbeing with it. In trying to prove we’re strong enough to do everything, we abandon ourselves. That abandonment can take many forms: prioritising others first, loving your partner without setting healthy boundaries, building a life around work instead of the other way around, disconnecting from community, giving until we’re depleted. Carrying so much alone, we convince ourselves there’s no time to pause. Yet it is precisely those pauses that allow us to breathe, heal and recharge.
I understand now that the exhaustion, illnesses and heartbreak weren’t separate events. They were a calling to slow down, to soften, to question a rhythm I had normalised and redefine my idea of success and love. Softness is not weakness, but an act of courage in a world that celebrates acceleration. I found this through everyday rituals – ones that people often practise every day without realising.
Making morning tea or coffee, burning incense, celebrating a birthday, cooking – all of these are rituals. So are singing and breathing. Rituals make a space within the everyday for the mind to find tranquillity and for the heart to expand, turning an ordinary moment into a sacred one.
Three Rituals To Bring Softness Into Your Life
1) Practise 4-5-7 breath
Find a comfortable position, place your right hand over your heart and your left hand on your lower abdomen. Inhale for four, hold for five, and exhale for seven. Repeat five times, feeling your heart rate slow and your body relax. This takes under five minutes and helps reset your nervous system.
2) Give thanks to nature
Practise this at the ocean, a park or a garden. Gather shells, leaves or flowers already fallen to the ground and arrange them into an offering. This can be any shape or design that feels aligned with you. I usually create mandalas. Place your hands over your creation, close your eyes and give thanks. The presence this invites quiets daily noise and deepens your relationship with the natural world.
3) Carve out moments for creativity
Writing, brewing a tonic, cooking a new recipe, trying ceramics, drawing: any creative act can return you to softness. Set aside one afternoon a week. Light incense, prepare your space, chose your medium and let your hands communicate what words sometimes can’t.
