Do the Thing That Lights You Up
I want to share something profoundly impactful and almost silly in its simplicity: do the thing that lights you up.
"Of course," you say. "I know that." But are you doing it?
Over the weekend, I was in a conversation — one of my other circles — and someone gently redirected the energy. Two of us had been talking about what we didn't want: how hard it is to garden and maintain what's meant to be communal space when you're doing it alone. What was offered was simple: talk about what you're calling in, what you want — because whatever we're ruminating in, sharing, communicating about, is what we're actually calibrating to.
On the inside, it rubbed me. I wanted patience for the process — and if I'm honest, my ego didn't love being called out. So I tuned out. Admittedly, I was also carrying multiple other conversations from earlier in the day that I hadn't take the time to recalibrate from.
Fast forward to the next day. I was sitting in my living room, windows open on a lovely spring day, when I was met with the "vroom, vroom, vroom" of about twenty bikers revving their engines up the hill toward the stop sign in front of my house. And I heard my inner voice start up — these bikers, so much noise, why can't they… — and then a light bulb went off.
Oh. I'm doing it. I'm doing exactly what I was called out for yesterday.
I wasn't appreciating my life. I was complaining about it. Catching myself, I switched. I took stock of the things I love about living in this house, in this little town. And then I went outside — into nature, just to be. No agenda. Nature moves at its own pace. Not hurried. It just is. And something in that unhurriedness has a way of calling me back to myself.
The next day, I was in the garden. My draw to nurture nature is almost compulsive. I lose track of time out there — and I mean that as a compliment. When something feels that good, when you're that aligned with what you're doing, you stop counting the minutes. You stop fighting against. You just flow. Prince loves it too. Whenever I'm outside, he's right there with me, and that companionship is its own quiet recalibration.
When I came in and stepped into the shower, I noticed I could still feel the tension in my body. Grounded, yes. Present, yes. But still carrying something. The water felt incredible, and I found myself appreciating it — the cleaning, the nourishing, the simple gift of warm water on tired skin. And then I took a breath. A few deep ones, actually, letting the exhales be long and the water wash it all away.
It did.
That's the thing about the breath — it's so easily overlooked because it's always there. But a conscious breath, especially one paired with appreciation for the simple fact that you are breathing, is one of the most immediate recalibration tools available. Your body speaks. If you listen, it will tell you what it's still holding. And the breath can move it.
That day — the walk in nature, the garden, Prince, the shower, the breath — was a series of small, simple, accessible returns to myself. Nothing exotic. Nothing that required scheduling or a plane ticket. Just presence, and the willingness to choose it.
In Monday night's circle, something similar came up. We were talking about meditation — the power of just sitting, nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to be. Everyone agreed: it helps orient the day, creates space to see, opens something up. And yet, many of us try to fit it in rather than prioritize it. We squeeze it in once a week when we're about to flip our lid, rather than treating it as the foundation it actually is.
I used to teach high school marching band and colorguard. The adjudication system we used was built around a 1–5 framework. Box 1: seldom experiences. Box 2: rarely discovers. Box 3: sometimes knows. Box 4: frequently understands. Box 5, the 90–100% range: always applies.
Whether you've been in a competition or just watched one from the stands, you know the difference between a performer who knows the choreography and one who has embodied it — who has applied it so fully it becomes second nature. It shows. You can feel it.
Most of us are walking through life in Box 3. Sometimes knows.
Yeah, you know meditation is good for you. You know playing with your child or your pet feels good. You feel alive when you're making music or art. You know you're at peace on the water, kayaking or fishing, or staring up at the night sky while the stress of your day just fades. You know these things.
But how often do you understand them deeply enough to apply them?
This isn't about quitting your day job and chasing joy 24/7 — though I'm not not saying that. It's about actively choosing to make room for what nourishes you. For your alignment. For your energy, your spirit, your joy. For the constant, gentle recalibration of your frequency, your perspective, your focus.
The invitation is simple: take inventory. What are the things that bring you back to yourself? What calibrates you to peace, ease, openness, aliveness? Not just the grand gestures — the two-week Hawaiian vacation — but the small, everyday ones. The cup of tea and twenty minutes of quiet. The walk in the woods. Thirty minutes in the backyard with nothing to do. A breath in the shower. Hands in the garden. Your dog sitting beside you in the sun.
Make the list before you need it. And then apply.
Because here's the truth that ties all of this together: self-care is community care. How you feel affects how you show up — for your family, your neighbors, your community, your world. When you take the time to recalibrate, you don't just feel better. You become one less body in anxiety, one less presence in the field of overwhelm and reaction. You shift the field around you. One person returning to themselves ripples outward. Even if you show up somewhere and never say a word, your presence — regulated, grounded, open — contributes something real.
The work isn't to save the world. It's to save yourself — so you can radiate a frequency worth catching.
Choose you. Daily. Simply. In the small moments.
Then watch what ripples.
Drop in the comments what some of your favorite ways to connect back to yourself are. Want to go deeper on self-care as a practice? Check out this post: Self-Care Is an Energy Practice
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