Mindfulness Practice

The real meaning of Christmas has been drowned out by noise. Too many lists. Too many expectations. Too much pressure to make it special, magical, memorable. Somewhere along the way, Christmas stopped being a day and turned into a test. Of generosity. Of happiness. Of how well you’re holding it together. By the time it arrives, a lot of us are already tired. We’re told Christmas is about joy, but joy doesn’t switch on just because the calendar says so. Not when the year has been heavy. Not when there are empty chairs at the table. Not when family is complicated, money is tight, or grief is sitting quietly in the corner waiting to be noticed. And still, we’re expected to smile. To be grateful. To play along. That version of Christmas has never worked for everyone. Strip it back and the original story is small and simple. At its heart, Christmas is a religious celebration. It’s about the birth of Jesus—God coming into the world as something vulnerable, fragile, and human. A quiet a...

December is supposed to be the soft landing at the end of the year. The deep breath. The reward. Everyone talks about slowing down like it is a gift you unwrap and instantly enjoy. For me, it is not like that. December is hard. Christmas is hard. The downtime is hard. And I have stopped pretending it is anything else. When the year is busy, I cope better. There is a rhythm. A reason to get up. Things to respond to. People who need answers. Even stress has a shape. You can push against it. You can survive it one day at a time. Then December arrives and everything loosens. Schedules disappear. Noise drops away. People go quiet. And suddenly there is space. Too much space. Downtime sounds peaceful if your inner world is calm. If it is not, downtime feels like being locked in a room with your own thoughts and no distraction allowed. That is when things creep in. Grief that stayed polite all year suddenly clears its throat. Loneliness that behaved itself now wants a seat at the tabl...

  I didn’t just make a small mistake. I messed up badly, in a way that hurt a lot of people, but most of all my family. That fact sits heavy on me every single day. I wake up with it, go to sleep with it, and it follows me in every quiet moment in between. The shame isn’t just a thought; it feels like a living thing inside me, pressing on my chest, making me question who I am and whether I even deserve to be here. And the truth I have to face is brutal. Can it even be called a mistake if I actively chose to do the wrong thing? That hits differently. A mistake is something accidental, something you stumble into. But this was conscious. This was a choice. And owning that choice, fully and without excuses, is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It’s like staring into a mirror and seeing someone you barely recognise, someone capable of hurting the ones you love the most. I’ve spent so long punishing myself, replaying every detail over and over, wishing I could take it bac...

  Most of us start the day already behind. I have to get up. I have to deal with this. I have to make it through. Those three words quietly load pressure onto everything. They make life sound like one long list of chores instead of a series of choices. Now swap them for something lighter: “I get to.” It changes everything. I get to wake up. I get to show up for work. I get to take care of people I love. Same reality, new energy. You’re no longer the one being pushed by life. You’re the one walking beside it. Why It Matters The way we talk to ourselves shapes how we feel. “I have to” closes the door on gratitude. “I get to” opens it again. It reminds us that even when things are hard, there’s still some choice, some meaning, some gift tucked inside the moment. It’s not about pretending the tough stuff is fun. It’s about seeing that there’s still purpose in the doing. A Simple Practice Catch yourself once today saying “I have to.” Pause for a second. Breathe. Then ...

  I used to think fasting was some sort of punishment. Like something only gym fanatics or monks did to prove a point. But it turns out, it’s less about control and more about awareness. When I’m fasting, I notice all the times I’d normally reach for food for no real reason. Bored? Snack. Tired? Snack. Someone irritated me? Snack again. When you take that option off the table, you suddenly have to sit with yourself. Not always fun, but surprisingly eye-opening. And when I do eat again, it feels different. I actually taste my food. I don’t crave junk anymore. My body feels lighter, and somehow I’ve got more energy than when I was eating every few hours. Go figure. Fasting sort of sneaks mindfulness in through the back door. It’s not about how long you can go without eating. It’s about paying attention — to your body, your habits, and that little voice that says “just one more biscuit.” Turns out, you don’t need another biscuit. You probably just need a glass of water and to tak...

  Breathing is the most ordinary thing you do. But when you pay attention to it, the results are anything but ordinary. The way you breathe can dial stress up or down, sharpen focus, and even influence how well your immune system stands guard. Stress and Immunity Go Hand in Hand Fast, shallow breathing locks your body in fight or flight. That means stress hormones like cortisol stay high, which weakens your immune response. Slow, steady breathing is the off switch. It drops stress levels and lets your immune system get back to its real work. Oxygen is Fuel for Your Defenses When you breathe deeply into your diaphragm, you are delivering more oxygen to your bloodstream. That oxygen powers your white blood cells and the rest of your immune system. Shallow chest breathing is like running on half a tank. Deep breathing fills you up. What Huberman Calls “Controlled Stress” Huberman has highlighted a style of breathwork known as cyclic hyperventilation, often used in the Wim Hof ...