Recently I’ve discovered that some of the most profound moments of growth (and even joy) can happen in quiet solitude and grief. I don’t know if you’ve seen the film ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ but the lessons from this film have definitely stayed with me and have very much been realised in my life at times over the past year.
I’ve found that in moments of stillness, when I gave myself permission to sit with my grief instead of running from it, that the biggest breakthroughs have appeared.
Last year, after I separated from my child’s father, I spent many evenings alone, which I wasn’t used to. Sometimes I would lie in the bath for an hour. Other times, I’d simply sit in silence with nothing to distract me. Instead of trying to escape the sadness, I made the conscious decision to let it wash over me. I allowed myself to grieve.
And something unexpected happened.
The more I accepted my emotions instead of resisting them, the more clarity began to emerge. Ideas surfaced. Inspiration arrived. Wisdom seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside me. It wasn’t something I had to force—it simply appeared once I stopped trying to avoid how I felt.
These last few weeks I’ve found myself in some difficult personal circumstances again. And the other night, I was afforded a few hours by myself. Normally, I would have filled that time with household chores, work, life admin, social engagements, exercise, or anything that kept me occupied. My life had once again become so busy that I forgot that doing nothing was even an option.
So on this occasion, I remembered what I’d learnt last year, and I made a different choice. I also recognised that I hadn’t taken any time at all to just process what was going on in my life.
So I decided I wasn’t going to do anything.
No phone. No work. No to-do list. No distractions.
I gave myself permission to simply feel whatever was there. If that meant crying, I would cry. If it meant sitting in silence or feeling bored, that was okay too. I wasn’t trying to fix anything. I was simply acknowledging what I was experiencing.
Then something fascinating happened.
Once I stopped telling myself that I should be doing something, I suddenly found myself wanting to do things.
I wanted to put music on and dance.
I picked up my guitar and learnt a new song.
I journalled.
I practised yoga.
I lifted weights.
The difference was that none of these activities came from a place of avoidance or obligation. I wasn’t using them to distract myself, and I wasn’t doing them to tick another box on my to-do list. I did them because I genuinely wanted to.
That realisation felt incredibly freeing.
Too many of us get into the habit of believing that the value of doing something comes from achieving an outcome. Exercise is for fitness. Writing is for productivity. Playing an instrument is for ‘practice’, so we can improve. Everything had a purpose attached to it.
Sometimes we don’t need to justify the things that nourish us. We don’t always need a goal or an end result. And sometimes our body already knows exactly what it needs before our mind catches up.
Looking back, I can see that my body was gently guiding me all along. It knew what would help me reconnect with myself. The only thing standing in the way was my belief that I always had to be doing something productive.
Ironically, it was only when I gave myself permission to do nothing that I finally felt free to do what I truly wanted.
The moment I released the pressure to perform, achieve, or distract myself, a weight lifted.
And in that moment of freedom, I was able to find my way back to myself again.
I remembered that healing isn’t always about finding the answers. Sometimes it’s about creating enough quiet for them to find you.
