Wool Goddess

There are moments when my mind feels louder than the world around me. Thoughts pile up, urgency creeps in, and suddenly everything feels like it needs fixing right now. In those moments, logic rarely helps, but kindness does.

Over time, especially through illness, fatigue, healing, and seasons of deep change, I’ve learned that calming the mind isn’t about silencing it. It’s about meeting it gently and making friends with it.

These are the reminders I come back to when my thoughts begin to spiral. I don’t shout them. I don’t force them. I let them land softly, like leaves settling on water.

I am safe in this moment

Even when my body feels uncomfortable or when my future feels uncertain.
Right now, in this exact breath, I am not in danger.

Safety isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the presence of awareness. I remind myself to notice what is actually happening, not what my mind is predicting.

I only need to take the next small step

My brain loves to race ahead, trying to map out everything at once. Healing doesn’t work like that. Neither does life.

I don’t need the full plan or know all the answers.
I just need the next doable thing.
And sometimes that thing is rest.

I don’t have to fix everything today

This one is hard for those of us who are natural carers, problem-solvers, and overthinkers.

Not everything is urgent.
Not everything is mine to carry.
Some things can wait, and some things don’t need fixing at all.

My thoughts are not facts

Thoughts can feel convincing, especially when anxiety is involved. But feelings are not forecasts, and fears are not prophecies.

I can acknowledge a thought without believing it.
I can let it pass without engaging.
I can choose curiosity instead of judgment.

I can feel this without reacting

Discomfort doesn’t require immediate action.
Emotion doesn’t require a solution.

Sometimes the bravest thing I can do is sit with what I’m feeling and allow it to move through me, without trying to numb it, distract from it, or explain it away.

I have survived hard things before

My body remembers resilience even when my mind forgets.

I have lived through pain, grief, illness, heartbreak, and change. I may not always remember how strong I am, but my nervous system does.

I can focus on what is within my control

There is so much in life that is uncertain, especially when health is involved. But there are small anchors available to me:

My breath.
My pace.
What I consume, physically and emotionally.
How kindly I speak to myself.

Those things matter more than I sometimes realise.

I don’t need to decide anything yet

Pressure to “know” can be overwhelming. Not every decision needs to be made immediately.

Pausing is allowed.
Waiting is allowed.
Listening to my body is allowed.

Clarity often arrives when we stop forcing it.

I am doing enough for today

Some days, doing enough looks like productivity. Other days, it looks like surviving.

Both count.
Both matter.

Rest is not failure. Slowness is not weakness.

This moment does not define me

A bad day is not a bad life.
A flare-up is not a setback in character.
A pause is not the end of the story.

I am more than this chapter.

I can ask for help

Independence is not the same as isolation. I am allowed support, softness, and shared weight.

I can be kind to myself

Above all, I remind myself that healing, whether emotional or physical, responds best to gentleness.

The way I speak to myself matters.
The way I treat myself matters.

Kindness is not indulgent.
It is medicine.

If you’re reading this and your mind feels tired, please know you don’t need to do more to be worthy of peace. You don’t need to push harder to be enough.

Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is slow down, take a deep breath, and whisper:

I’m here. I’ve got you.

Love & healing hugs