Tag: reconnecting with yourself

  • What To Do When You Have Nothing To Do (For Women Over 50)

    I’ve been thinking about what to do when you have nothing to do.

    That sounds like it should be simple. A free afternoon. No one needing anything. Nowhere to be. Just: time.

    I stood in my kitchen last week and felt it – that strange, uncomfortable blankness. And within about three minutes, I was already reaching for something useful. Tidying. Planning. Sorting the car out. Drafting a newsletter.

    The pull was automatic. Almost like a reflex.

    I stopped myself. But it took effort.

    Because for most of our lives, being needed was the structure. Work, children, parents, partners, problems. There was always something. And we were always the ones holding it together.

    Rest wasn’t really rest. It was recovery before the next round.

    My mum was different. She knew how to simply be. She’d make a cup of tea, sit by the window, and read her book. Watch the birds come into the garden. Go and see a friend just to have a proper chat – not to solve anything, not to help with anything. Just to be together, chat, laugh.

    She wasn’t anxious. She was at peace.

    I used to watch her and not quite understand it. Now I think she had something I’m still learning.

    Since she died, I’ve been practising. Sitting with a coffee without reaching for my phone. Meeting a friend and having that chat and laughing – not multitasking in my head. I’ve just finished a wonderful book by Rory Stewart and I have my next one waiting. I’m hoping to start it today.

    It’s harder than it sounds. Especially when you’ve been needed for so long that stillness feels suspicious. Almost not allowed. Like you should be doing something.

    But here’s what I’m coming to understand: reconnecting with yourself doesn’t happen in a dramatic moment. It happens in small, quiet experiments. An afternoon with no agenda. A walk with no destination. A morning when you let things be slow.

    You have to practise wanting things again.

    It’s a skill. And it’s one we can absolutely rebuild.

    It starts with one honest question:

    What do I actually feel like doing right now – one thing just for me?

    This week’s practice:

    Schedule two hours for yourself this week. Put it in your diary right now, before you read another word.

    When those two hours arrive:

    • Do not clean.
    • Do not plan.
    • Do not improve anything.

    Just notice what happens in your body when you stop being useful. Notice the pull toward productivity. Notice what stillness actually feels like for you.

    Then write one sentence: How do I feel when I stop?

    Let’s do this.  Everyday, living our own lives.

    With love and best wishes always,
    Susy 

    I’ve been thinking about what to do when you have nothing to do. That sounds like it should be simple. A free afternoon. No one needing anything. Nowhere to be. Just: time. I stood in my kitchen last week and felt it – that strange, uncomfortable blankness. And within about three minutes, I was already…

  • Your Spark Isn’t Gone — It’s Just Been Waiting


    Have you been feeling a little flat lately?

    Not depressed. Not broken. Just… a bit grey.

    Going through the motions. Doing what needs doing. Showing up for everyone else. But somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling that flicker — that sense of aliveness that used to be yours.

    I’ve been reflecting on this month’s theme: rediscovery. Reconnecting with what lights us up, with what makes each of us unique.

    And here’s what I want you to know before you read another word:

    Your spark isn’t gone. It’s just been a little lost, buried under years of looking after everything and everyone else.

    You can get it back. Every day, in some way, you can have your unique spark again.

    When the Years Just Passed

    A few years ago, I went through a period where I felt completely flat.

    I’d wake up. Go to my nursing shift. Come home. Sort everything. Do what needed doing. Repeat.

    Nothing was bad. But nothing excited me either. The years seemed to be just passing.

    The spark was there — I know that now. It was just hidden under years of putting everyone else first. Of being responsible, reliable, needed. Of doing what had to be done.

    I just couldn’t feel it anymore. And I knew I needed it back.

    How the Spark Came Back — In Small Moments

    With one simple shift in awareness — I wanted my spark back — I started to seek it out. And it returned in small, almost magical moments.

    I laughed at something silly my son said. I felt it.

    I sat with my daughter and really listened — no interrupting, no rushing. Just listened, then offered a few thoughts at the end. We connected. The spark was there.

    One morning I woke up genuinely looking forward to something I’d planned. That feeling of anticipation. The butterflies.

    Moments of aliveness.

    My spark wasn’t gone. It was waiting for me to notice it. Waiting for me to make space for it. Waiting for me to stop prioritising everything else long enough to remember: I’m allowed to want things just for me.

    Your Spark Is Still There Too

    We all have our unique spark. It’s what makes you, you.

    Under all the years of being who everyone needed you to be. Under all the times you said “I’m fine” when you weren’t. It’s still there.

    You don’t have to dig up every flicker at once. You don’t need a complete life transformation. You don’t have to quit your job and move to Italy — though if that’s your spark, I won’t stop you.

    Start smaller. Start with noticing.

    Notice the moments when you feel a little more alive. A little more yourself. When something makes you laugh, or pulls your attention, or creates that small bubble of anticipation in your chest.

    That’s your spark. It never left.

    This Week’s Practice

    Do one thing this week that makes you feel alive. Something that makes you feel like you.

    • Something that excites you
    • Something you’ve been putting off
    • Something that brings that small flicker back

    Notice it when it comes. That’s your spark. You’re back. And you’re on a wonderful journey of rediscovery.


    With love and best wishes always, Susy

    P.S. When did you last feel your spark? What were you doing? Leave a comment — I’d love to hear it.

    Have you been feeling a little flat lately? Not depressed. Not broken. Just… a bit grey. Going through the motions. Doing what needs doing. Showing up for everyone else. But somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling that flicker — that sense of aliveness that used to be yours. I’ve been reflecting on this month’s…