September can have all the new feels.

But it can also have a bit of a shifting-sands feeling. Especially if it’s a new-chapters kind of September in your household.

I approached this September with the intention of being gentle with myself while things settled into new rhythms.

There has been A LOT of change here in SJC HQ family life. New routines, new commitments, different timings. I was also away for three nights of the first full week back for everyone.

So I knew it might take a little while for things to settle. And yet, I’ve noticed an interesting tension in myself.

There’s the part of me that is being realistic and compassionate. The part that knows this was always going to be a little up and down while we found our feet.

And then there’s the part of me that really wants to get back to the “on it” version of myself I’d been able to inhabit before and during the summer.

I want my gym and swim schedule sorted.

I want my work commitments time-blocked and to know what I’m focusing on from one work session to the next.

I want to feel organised, focused and like I’m making progress.

And when those things aren’t happening quite as I’d like them to, it can be surprisingly easy to interpret that as somehow failing.

When a wobble starts to feel like going backwards

I notice my mind jumping ahead.

What if I fall back into less helpful patterns of numbing rather than the nourishing wellbeing habits I’ve worked hard to establish?

What if work becomes frantic and stressful again rather than focused and mapped out?

There can be a temptation to see a wobble as evidence that everything is beginning to unravel.

But when I slow down and get curious about what’s actually going on, I can see something else too.

The tension, discomfort and simmering frustration are giving me some useful information.

They’re reminding me what matters to me.

• Swimming. Walking. Journalling. Reading. Being. Listening to music.
• Having some structure to my working days.
• Seeing work and personal projects moving forward.
• Feeling like I’m using my time and energy intentionally.

These aren’t just things I think I should be doing.

They are things that genuinely support me.

Over the last few years, I’ve felt a tangible difference to my quality of life when I prioritise the practices that support my physical and emotional health. And I’ve noticed the sense of satisfaction I get from seeing the things that matter to me progress.

So perhaps the frustration itself isn’t the problem.

Perhaps some of it is simply telling me:

This matters to you.

Moving towards what matters, with realism and compassion

The challenge is what I do with that information. I could use the frustration to pile on more pressure.

Come on. Sort yourself out. You were doing this before. Why aren’t you doing it now?

Or I can let it gently nudge me back towards the things I know matter to me.

Not by expecting myself to immediately recreate the routine I had before. But by recognising the whole context I’m living within right now.

• My current capacity.
• The changes we’re adjusting to.
• The various pushes and pulls on my time, energy and attention.

And then asking:

What would moving a little closer towards what matters look like within the life I actually have right now?

That might look different from a few months ago. And that’s okay. I think this is the bit I’m having to remind myself of most.

Being compassionate with ourselves doesn’t mean we have to shrug our shoulders at something that isn’t working for us.

And wanting to change something doesn’t mean we have to criticise ourselves into changing it.

There can be a middle ground. We can notice the frustration. Listen to what it might be telling us.

And take a step towards what matters, with a good dollop of realism and compassion alongside us.

It sounds straightforward when I write it down. In reality, it’s taking quite a lot of self-coaching to hold myself steady there!

But perhaps that’s part of navigating any new chapter. We don’t have to have the new rhythm worked out immediately. 

Sometimes we need to give ourselves a little time to find our feet.