30/01/2026
Sometimes all weâre really asking for isnât another tool, another practice, or another way to cope.
Itâs permission.
I ask my students how theyâre feeling before we begin. Almost every time, with a large proportion of the group, the answer is some version of âtired.â And over time, Iâve started to question what that tiredness actually means.
Not always physical exhaustion, but a deeper fatigue. The tiredness of always having to be âon.â Of pushing through. Of holding it together.
Often, what people seem to want isnât to be energised or fixed. They just want someone to say: Itâs okay to stop.
So I listen. And I give them that.
Slower practices. Fewer shapes. More space. More silence. Time to just be in the body without performing or striving.
I learned the hard way.
After living through a six-year burnout, I know now that pushing through doesnât build resilience - it erodes it. Ignoring the signals doesnât make you stronger; it just teaches your system that it isnât safe to speak.
Sometimes the most supportive thing we can do is pause.
Say no. Rest. Slow down.
Not because weâre failing, but because our system is asking us to listen.
