Back & Gentler Than Ever

writing again & revisiting a New Year's intention

“This is the season to make beautiful things. Not perfect things, but honest things, that speak to who you are and who you are meant to be." – Morgan Harper Nichols

I promise I didn’t abandon you, dear Substack readers. In my writerly realm, there’s nothing scarier than a blank Google Doc staring back at me. My eyes tire from the blue light illuminating the screen, and the absence of letters and words only adds to the strain. For the past few weeks, I’ve tried to write my weekly Substack, but the words I could find often felt trapped somewhere between my hippocampus and my phalanges.

Earlier this month marked one year of my Substack, Worrying Well—a mini-milestone I began writing about but then let fall into the graveyard of drafts, a fitting place for a chilly October. Each half-written page sprawls with fragmented sentences, and I tell myself, “I’ll get back to that later.” Before I know it, another week has passed, and there are no posts to show for it. Cue the cycle of rinse and repeat for another unplanned Substack hiatus.

A few weeks ago in my Yoga Teacher Training, we began class by writing down a word, any word that described something we were trying to embody. Unlike my experience of staring at a Google Doc, the word appeared immediately, and I scribbled “gentle” and tore the sheet out of my notebook. Following instructions I then stood up and squinted to see what my classmates wrote, finding a peer who had a similar word, then taking sixty seconds to describe why we chose our word and what it meant to us. 

I floated over to a new friend and explained how “gentle” represents a softness, an essence of calmness and kindness. It’s not synonymous with fragile, a word used to describe something that easily breaks, but they are tangentially linked. Without a gentle approach, we can be too harsh, leading to unnecessary harm. 

Lately, I’ve been reminding myself to be gentle towards myself. As the Southerners say, "give yourself some grace." Psychologist Tara Brach might call it an act of radical self-compassion. In yoga philosophy, it's simply: “meet yourself where you are.” I’ve written about this approach before, in my New Year post back in January and this theme is coming up again, now, ten months later.

Being gentle with myself isn’t a “get out of jail free” card for daily responsibilities, nor is it an excuse to accidentally temporarily abandon my Substack. Embodying this gentle approach is a lot like taking the scenic route. Instead of white-knuckling through the drive at 80 MPH, I’m learning to savor the stretches of road where fall foliage puts on a show for those who choose to see it. We can all soak up these moments mindfully, slowing down time as much as possible, unbothered by the pace at which it’s passing.

As I embrace this gentleness, I’m reminded of the importance of slowing down and appreciating the little moments that bring joy and calm during times of uncertainty —especially after a few weeks away from writing. In a world that often pushes us to hustle and achieve, I’ve been finding beauty in the simplicity of being as present as possible.

Here are a few ways I’ve embodied this gentleness lately:

1. A quick trip to the Hudson Valley for a leisurely agenda-free afternoon catching up with college friends

2. Many homemade matcha lattes

3. Sneaking in a weekday lunch date at one of my favorite vegan restaurants

4. Spotting the Aurora Borealis while in my pajamas 

5. Walking to the beach around sunset to soak up the calm & beauty

6. Finding local festive fall activities 

gentleness embodied

I hope you’re gentle with yourself, too. 

xoxo,
Nicole