Why is it so hard to be present for yourself ?
And what does being present even mean!
Do you find it easier to be present for other people than for yourself ?
You’re not alone. You’re human.
What does presence really mean ?
Its one of those words that we throw around as if it’s something obvious but in the interest of clarity, I will share my views on what being present means.
Self awareness
Paying attention to what’s going on inside
Slowing down enough to notice how I feel
A steadiness, even when I feel I may tip off balance
I find this much easier to achieve for other people.
I can put my phone down, make eye contact, listen and catch the small shifts, the tone, the meaning much more easily for other people than I can for myself.
I literally have made being present for others my work as a coach.
I can be present for other people.
I listen.
I hold space.
I stay with them in the hard moments.
But when it comes to being present with myself?
I sometimes struggle.
It’s so much easier to fill the space.
With noise … the radio , a podcast, TV
With activity … a busy diary, exercise classes, cleaning ( ok maybe not cleaning )
With other people’s needs
Sometimes, I have a urgent, insistent need :
To keep moving.
To keep doing.
To keep going.
Because the moment I slow down … I feel it.
I feel the discomfort, the ache, the longing, the dis-ease I have about how I feel.
And if I’m honest, I don’t want to feel that … I don’t like it.
So I distract myself.
But because I’m human.
And I know I’m doing it; I can feel the discomfort coming and I hide or take action to avoid it.
I also know that hiding and avoiding doesn’t make it disappear. It just makes me feel more disconnected.
From myself.
From my needs.
From the shape I want my life to have.
Maybe this resonates with you. Maybe you need a minute to be present before you admit that you see yourself in this ?..
Being present with myself is hard.
Sitting with discomfort is hard.
Regulating myself when emotions rise is hard.
There’s no audience.
No one to “do it well” for.
Just me… my grief … and a choice.
Short term discomfort in exchange for long term peace, balance and an ability to self regulate
Or
Hide and avoid any pain now and wait for it to trip me up further down the road.
I choose option one.
And when I do it, even briefly, it’s powerful.
Not in a big, dramatic way but in a steady, grounding way.
As the Grief Gardener, I often say:
We’re very good at tending everyone else’s gardens.
But learning to sit in our own, without fixing, rushing, or avoiding … that’s where real change begins.
So I’ve been practising this in small, manageable ways.
I’m not perfect by any stretch. In fact, if I’m honest with you, I have been more intentional about being present with myself in the last few weeks than I have since NJ died.
And it’s tough.
So why revisit this all now when I am seemingly coping, getting on with life and moving forward? I’ve been giving that a great deal of thought.
Maybe the seeds I planted and the shoots of new growth I tended over the last few years have started to take hold and I feel ready to really blossom and challenge myself
Maybe I’m testing my season of grief. I believe I’m in the Autumn of my grief where I’m beginning to harvest some meaning from my loss and the life I’m shaping
Maybe I’m more confident in my ability to cycle through the seasons of grief and revisit the harder parts which I had only lightly touched before
The reason doesn’t matter, what matters is that I am still learning, still growing, still leaning into the challenges and this makes me human.
It also allows me to truly support my clients when I ask them to show themselves kindness and grace … and recommend they find space and time to be present for themselves.
So I’ve been practising presence for myself , using the advice I offer to others.
Three ways I’m learning to be present with myself
1. Catch the distraction (without judging it)
When I notice myself reaching for noise, scrolling, or staying busy,
I pause and ask:
“What am I trying not to feel right now?”
Sometimes I answer.
Sometimes I don’t.
But the question alone brings me back, makes me pause, makes me steady myself.
2. Sit with it… for just a minute
Not an hour. Not forever.
Just 60 seconds of allowing whatever is there to be there.
A tight chest.
A wave of sadness.
A restless feeling.
I remind myself:
This will pass. I can stay with this.
3. Give my body something steady to hold onto
When emotions feel big, thinking doesn’t help.
So I come back to something physical:
Feet flat on the ground
A hand on my heart or chest
Slowing my breath, just slightly
It helps me regulate, helps me pause, without needing to “solve” anything.
Some days I still avoid it.
Some days I stay busy.
But the difference is, now I notice it.
And that’s the first step back.
If I can sit with my discomfort for even a minute, I feel empowered.
Because presence with ourselves isn’t about getting it right. It’s about building the capacity to stay… a little longer each time.
The power of the breath
It is worth noting that coming back to your breath is always comforting and scientifically effective.
Your breath can act like a remote control for your nervous system.
Fast shallow breathing = stay alert, something is wrong
Slow, deep breathing = it’s ok, stand down, we are safe
Try these two simple breathing patterns to calm you and hep you stay present
A deep breath in with a longer breath out … simple but powerful
Two short breaths in through your nose and slowly out through your mouth. Repeat 2 short breaths in and hum as you release slowly through your mouth.
These breathing techniques help to regulate your nervous system and calm you.
They take practice and but it is worth the effort.
If you’re reading this and recognising yourself, you might be wondering where you are in all of this.
Why some days feel frozen and others feel lighter.
Why sometimes you want to hide and other times you feel ready for something more.
That’s exactly why I created something gentle to explore this…
🌿 A short, reflective check-in :
Which season of grief am I in right now?
Not to label you.
Not to box you in.
But to help you understand what your heart might need and how to support yourself in a way that actually fits.
Because just like a garden, grief moves through seasons.
And each one asks something different of you.
If you feel ready, you can explore your season here:
Wherever you are right now.
If you find it easier to be present for everyone else than for yourself…
you’re not alone.
And you’re not doing it wrong.
You’re learning something deeply human.
A gentle question to carry with you today:
What might I notice, if I stayed with myself for just one minute longer?
A gentle invitation
If you’ve been standing at the edge of your own garden, keeping busy, staying distracted, unsure how to step in Living Forward is where we begin to change that.
Together, we gently step into what’s here, tending to the seeds that need attention,
and creating the conditions for steadiness, meaning, and self-trust to grow.
If you feel ready to explore what your next chapter could look like, you’re warmly welcome to take that step.
With warmth
Karen
p.s. last month I wrote to you about the stories we tell ourselves in our grief and invited you to pause long enough to challenge and maybe reframe them
The Grief Gardener at Reset and Rise Coaching - solution-focused grief support, creating the conditions for life after loss.