Permission to Pause: A Summer Reflection

There’s a particular moment in the summer, somewhere after the solstice in June, when the sun’s power feels both restorative and relentless. Its light nourishes, yes, but it also reveals the ways in which we might be running too hot, spinning too fast, circling too many suns at once.

Everywhere I look I see this frenetic energy. So many plates spinning. So many to-dos. So many ways of being in service. And yet, beneath it all, a quiet longing for a slower rhythm.

The summer asks us to feel the intensity before we can step away. And for me, that intensity landed in the simplest, most tender way; prompted by my daughter crestfallen again as I cut short our game  to ‘jump on a call’, and as I refused the second invitation of a water fight in the garden. She’s been on holiday since July the 4th. So mum locked away in her office is anything but fun.

I’ve been sitting with this. And I’ve made a decision:

I’m giving myself - and this newsletter, a break over the summer and changing the pace of its issue going forward.  I can’t keep up with the weekly newsletter of others, and as one busy person to another, I can only imagine that some of you can’t either.

Also the work we’ve been doing together, the conversations and themes we’ve been exploring, are deep and evocative. They deserve time to breathe. And I, too, deserve time to breathe. Time away from the glow of my screen. Time to be with my family, with my community, with the natural world. Time to replenish, and time to be spontaneous and accept those invitations of  ‘Let’s…’ without that internal feeling of contraction, so I can return in the autumn renewed.

But I’ll be honest it’s not always easy to say, I’m stepping back. Especially for those of us who have built lives around supporting, holding, leading others. It can feel almost transgressive to say ‘I’m not producing anything right now. I’m resting’.

So I want this little note to be both a confession and an invitation.

A confession that I, too, am constantly having to find ways to remember and honor the pause points.

And an invitation for you to consider where you might do the same.

I feel like we need to reclaim the meaning of self-care, not as a buzzword or a gimmick, but as an embodied practice and ritual. A way of remembering that our creativity, our leadership, our capacity to hold others, all begin with how we hold ourselves.

For now, I’ll be focusing behind the scenes on The Grief Reflections (content is still open for those who feel called and our Live session is on July 30th) and preparing for Burnout to Bliss, which begins in late September.

I look forward to reconnecting then, with new insights, a replenished heart, and perhaps even more space for what truly matters.

Until then, may you find your own moments of pause. May you feel the strength and softness of this season. May you give yourself permission to rest.

With love and gratitude,

Remi

PS - The Grief Reflections content is live now, and the LIVE date is 30 July 19:30-21:30 BST.