Surviving Softly
How I've managed myself the last 5 years that contained 6 deaths, a career transition, caring for an ailing family member, 2 community breakups, our current dystopian hellscape, and more
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
Those words ring so deeply true of my life over the last few years. While I was pursuing dreams like a seminary degree and writing a book, there was also so much heartache behind the scenes.
I don’t say this to seek pity. I don’t need it, truly. I’m pretty recovered from the bruises and breakdowns along the way. And frankly, I don’t talk about it much because it seems comically bad. Someone else was always suffering too, and I like to move through things in the quiet.
I remember sitting in a performance review at my last job, and she asked how I was. We had just buried another person we lost to COVID — our third in 13 months. And I couldn’t hold it together.
It was then that I realized that not everyone had been experiencing this pile-on. Though I know many had been. I wish I could say that was the end of it, but it was just the beginning.
I used my usual coping skills: isolation, too much work, and sometimes an extra glass of wine. But eventually I broke and I burned out. Really it felt more like I was burning down.
Aging has a way of showing you your limits, and I was hitting all of them at the same time. It’s taken the last two years — especially the last year — to reorient my life to feel and be good and not just avoid the bad.
So while you may have seen the inconsistent posts and podcast schedules (if you even noticed, idk) and short-term disappearing acts online, it was the only way I found the margin to remake myself and my life — not stronger, maybe a little softer, but mostly more spacious and slow.
Over the last year, a few people have asked how I did it. Because looking around, we’re experiencing yet another collective trauma through the systems and leaders of where we live. So today, I wanted to share the healthier tools I’ve found to survive softly and slowly in hopes that you can find some help and hope in them too.
Give so much margin for grief
This was probably the number one thing I did. What they don’t tell you about grief is a) it’s non-linear and b) sometimes it’s all-consuming and c) it takes so much of your capacity. I realized I hadn’t been respecting my grief’s needs because I was busy being busy to avoid it.
So I stopped doing all the things, which used to be my favorite coping mechanism. But I couldn’t do them well because I didn’t have the emotional or mental capacity. So I cut out a lot of things to push against the grind culture. But I also added stuff too: healthy routines, stronger boundaries, and support systems that keep me in a good space more often than not.
A group chat
Literally and figuratively. A group chat is a representation of a place to bring your mess and your togetherness, your seriousness and your silliness. But it’s really about having a go-to group who offer compassionate presence, whether they’re near or far. I’ve got one close to home where we hang out weekly to eat, play games, and just be. And I’ve got my book group chat that talks about all the things. It also helps that I have a wildly supportive husband who helps cheer me on, ground me, and be myself. When I feel like I can’t go anywhere, I know I’m safe with these people. And that has mattered a lot.
Romanticize the life you have
In the words of Taylor Swift, “I’m addicted to the ‘if only.’” It can be so easy to wait until the next milestone or level to be happy, and it can be so addicting to get caught in the loops of examining the past or wondering “what if” or dreaming about the future that you paralyze yourself. Once I realized that, I knew I needed a different approach to my life — one that I actually means I enjoy the hear and now.
So I decided to romanticize my own life. It’s partly a gratitude practice — every time I realize something lovely just happened I think on how lovely it is and how luck I am. But it’s also part intentional movement through life. I created cozy corners in my house (and we’re currently redecorating for more of what I love). I take deep breaths when the breeze hits the right way. I wear the clothes and jewelry that remind me of what I love and need to embody today. And sometimes I just flit from activity to activity to feel good in the little things.
It’s not about the big steps, it’s about celebrating and savoring all the little ones that make your life special.
Make your pockets of peace
This one goes along with the margin for grief and romanticizing your life bits, but I think it’s just as important to carve out specific times and activities that help you rest and rejuvenate. I call them my pockets of peace, but they mostly look like my hobbies. I recommend one for your mind and one for your body/hands.
For my mind, I read … a lot. I forgot until about 18 months ago that I actually like fiction. And now I read an average 6 fiction books a month and listen to 2 non-fiction (excluding books I use for research). I have the space for it now, but even with big projects breathing down my neck, I make intentional time to just read. But I also bake almost weekly.
There’s something about making something with your hands. I bake for our weekly game nights. I made the brunch for my birthday party, and I even make my own coffee syrups now to make my morning a little special. Sometimes I look up what people used to believe different ingredients do and I stir them in with intention. It feels special and it brings me peace to spend hours and even days in the kitchen — but especially to watch people enjoy what I made.
Channel your holy energy
I know the world is a disaster. We see it in every scroll on social media, hear it in every news drop, and watch it ripple through our neighbors’ lives. And it is so easy to get consumed with the despair and rage and get paralyzed or to burn ourselves out by trying to solve all the problems.
So instead of doing that, FOCUS. Focus on a couple of issues or a couple of skills you can use to contribute. And I don’t just mean talking about it on social media — which is cathartic (believe me, I know) but it doesn’t usually move the needle, and we can end up more angry and frustrated by being in touch with the neverending cycle of horrors.
Figure out what you can do. For me, it was diving back a bit more into my work. I know that what I do is good for me and helps others, but it has also been about having a lot of conversations about deeper issues with people I know and stopping the support of people or businesses that harm. They’re not big sweeping movements or things that will change the world. They’re small things I can actually accomplish knowing that the change we need doesn’t come overnight. So I want to do my part today.
Embrace the current you
This may be hard to hear but … you may never be your old self again. I know for sure that I will never have the capacity I once did. There are some rooms that aren’t welcome to me anymore and some ideas that have fundamentally changed how I see myself and the world and how I move through it. Some relationships have morphed beyond recognition and some have disappeared altogether.
I will never be the me I used to be, and while I have a lot of love for that version of me, I can’t go back to the me who was untouched by all this grief and pain. And that’s been another thing I’ve had to grieve in some ways.
On the other side of that grief, I actually love me and the person I am. I feel more settled, secure, and confident. I’m more focused and joyful on the whole. And most importantly, I’m healthier on just about every level. Once I accepted I couldn’t (and honestly, wouldn’t) be the old me, I found a deeper peace with the new me. But it’s taken time.
Walking through seasons where life just seems to have it out for you is hard, and there are people whose whole lives feel as chaotic as my last five years. I used to think it would end — the chaos, the grief — but I’ve had to actually just accept that there will be a level of it with me in every season. So rather than treating it as a pop-up problem, I’ve had to create sacred space to deal with it all regularly.
The rhythms I have above won’t work in my exact way for everyone, but they’re a few places for you to maybe try to find your own way forward even when it feels like everything is resisting you.


I love and so appreciate this, Kate. It's been a brutal year and a half, especially the last 6 months. I've found a lot of these things to be true for me as well, however I need to follow your example and replace the hustle (since I've basically given up on a lot of things) with healthy routines.
A very beautiful account of your situation...thank you for sharing your vulnerability, Kate.