This Season Is Slowing You Down for a Reason: What Illness, Stillness & Softness Taught Me About Enoughness
Things have been slower here recently. Not because I chose it, but because life chose it for me.
My little one caught a cough, and then I did too. Plans I had folded into the edges of the day simply unravelled. There was no heroic retreat, only a small house that needed softer hands and a quieter pace. I found myself moving through the day with less hurry and more listening.
Outside my window, the ground is hard with frost. The plants are retreating inward. Nature is becoming quieter, more reflective. Inside, December asks us to speed up: more plans, more giving, more doing. It’s easy to feel thin in that push. It’s easy to mistake motion for meaning.
When my body slowed, a new kind of attention arrived.
My body wasn’t failing; it was communicating. The cough, the quiet mornings, the way my shoulders asked to unknot themselves, it all felt like language. And I had to learn how to hear it.
Sickness didn’t come as drama. It came as an insistence: we will pause, whether you planned to or not. That forced shift taught me where I habitually hurried and where I could let go. It revealed small, honest truths about what actually mattered.
There were tiny medicines in the margins of the day. We made paper lanterns and walked with them like a small procession of light. We sledged until our cheeks burned and then came home to the soft blur of the fire. I warmed a mug of golden milk and felt the heat move through my hands into my chest.
Joy didn’t arrive as a big moment; it arrived through the simplest, smallest things.
A damp mitten left by the door.
The smell of firewood.
The crunch of the snow beneath our feet.
These were not dramatic healings; they were slow stitches that mended the edges.
There’s a seasonal wisdom here that feels older than any checklist. Late autumn and early winter bring certain qualities - cold, light, dryness, a scattering of attention. The body naturally craves warmth, slowness, nourishment, and routine in response. Stillness is not laziness; it is seasonal alignment.
Your body is wiser than your to-do list.
This truth changes how I practice.
My yoga looks different now: no long vinyasas, no performance.
Instead, I return to the mat for small acts of steadiness.
Child’s pose held with attentive breathing, heart‑melting over a bolster, lying long with the ribs soft and the breath slow.
These moments are simple, but they re-teach my nervous system what safety and softness feel like.
This season isn’t asking for strength; it’s asking for softness.
And after all of this, a quieter question kept returning: what if my value isn’t in what I produce, but in how deeply I can feel my life?
Illness slowed me down, yes. But the slowing also made room for noticing.
Joy softened me where I had been sharp.
Enoughness showed up not when tasks were completed, but when I let myself be present to the little things.
If you want something practical today, try one of these small anchors:
- One warm drink in stillness: hold the cup, breathe three slow counts, sip slowly.
- One breath with your hand on your heart: inhale four, pause one, exhale six.
- One moment of awe outside: lift your face to the sky, feel the cold air, notice a small detail.
- One grounding posture on the mat: child’s pose or reclining over a bolster for five slow breaths.
These are not obligations. They are invitations to re-teach your nervous system what being held feels like.
Free Conversation Series: Redefining Enoughness
If this piece landed with you, I’ve recorded a short conversation series about redefining enoughness. Including honest talks on slowing down, feeling more present, and softening the demand to always do more. No homework, no grand promises, just listening and gentle companionship.
Listen to the series → https://redefining-enoughness-mums.clare-gent.com/
P.S. If you’d like guided support in a live container, I’m holding a calm 75‑minute masterclass on Dec 4 called The Energy Reset for Depleted Mums. It’s a gentle, practical session where we notice your energy leaks and start a simple 3‑step repair plan. No pressure - just an invitation. Learn about the Energy Reset