I am a newly qualified breathwork facilitator with Breathing Space. Boy, that feels good to say.
I’ve been training and taking courses for the last six years, and I’ve reached a point of realisation now that my breathwork training is complete.
As one course nears completion, I always feel the urgency creeping in to jump into the next thing. Thankfully, I’ve caught myself in time.
I’ve always found it hard to slow down.
There’s a part of me that believes if I just work a little harder, do a little more, sign up for one more thing, then I’ll finally feel like I’m doing enough. That I am enough.
Perfectionism and productivity have been companions of mine for many years. They become especially loud during times of change. They convince me that if I just keep moving, keep achieving, keep producing, I’ll somehow feel more worthy.
But lately, I’m learning something different.
Sometimes slowing down is actually the bravest thing I can do.
With my career break this year, I had so many exciting ideas about all the different ways I could bring in an income through my business.
The desire is still there.
But after a particularly challenging year, I’ve realised something really important.
My capacity has run empty.
For the first time, instead of arguing with that, I’m choosing to honour it.
Not with guilt.
Not with shame.
Just with acceptance.
I’m beginning to understand that putting more pressure on myself isn’t going to get me where I want to be any faster. In fact, it’ll probably do the opposite.
The quickest way back to myself is to reduce the demands. To lift some of the pressure. To give myself some room to breathe.
And that doesn’t mean I’ve given up. Quite the opposite.
I’m investing in the things that matter most to me by making space for myself, too.
I’m a mother to three young children. My youngest has just turned two.
This is my season.
And instead of fighting it, I’m choosing to honour it. I want to have the energy to be there for my children, to be present, to enjoy the little things, and to feel like I’m actually living this stage of our lives rather than just getting through it.
I’m getting to know myself better, and I’m learning that when I’m tired and depleted, pushing harder only leaves me with even less to give to them.
I’m learning to listen to my body and recognise when I’ve had enough.
And perhaps this is the bit I’m learning to trust.
That slowing down is actually the most productive thing I can do.
Oddly enough, making peace with this has brought such a sense of relief.
I’m still moving in the direction I want to go, just at a pace that feels kinder.
Stepping off the treadmill for a while.
Maybe that’s what slowing down to speed up really means for me.
Getting away from all the shoulds and listening instead to what I actually need.
Resting when I’m tired, rather than feeling guilty that I should be doing more.
Letting this season be what it needs to be, rather than constantly trying to make it into something else.
Because if I keep pushing when I have nothing left to give, I’m not getting anywhere faster.
I’m just getting more depleted.
So, for now, I’m practising something different.
Pausing. Taking a breath. Giving myself permission to slow down.
And finding my way back to myself.
