*Not a routine to copy. Just a glimpse behind the curtain.*
My calm morning starts before I even sit up.
I’m still under the covers. Eyes mostly closed. Brain not fully online yet. And I’ve got the Dwell app playing — daily Scripture and a short lesson.
It’s the easiest win of my whole day.
I’m not taking notes. I’m not trying to “do a quiet time right.” I’m just… receiving something good before my thoughts wander off into the weeds or my heart decides to rehash everything it’s carrying.
For a few minutes, I’m not planning, fixing, or bracing. I’m just listening.
It sets the tone in a way I didn’t expect when I first started. My mind feels steadier. My nervous system feels less jumpy. It’s like my soul gets a gentle heads-up before the day begins.
And then…
…the dogs need out, so this calm little bubble has a time limit. 😄
Then real life starts barking
There’s no ignoring two dogs who are very clear about their morning priorities.
Letting them out has become its own kind of grounding ritual. Cold floor under my feet. Quiet outside. The sky doing whatever the sky is doing that day. It’s not glamorous, but it pulls me into the present fast.
No spiraling. No scrolling. Just: Okay, we’re up. Let’s begin.
Gentle stretching (aka “taking care of the parts that complain”)
Before I do much else, I stretch my feet, back, neck, and my still-healing wrist.
This is not fitness. This is maintenance. This is “I would like to move like a reasonably comfortable human today.”
It’s slow. It’s unremarkable. And it makes a real difference, especially first thing in the morning when everything feels a little tighter and less cooperative.
My medication routine: the built-in pace setter
Because I take thyroid medication, my mornings literally require me to slow down.
I take it as soon as I’m up, and then I have to wait before having supplements or breakfast. For a long time, that felt inconvenient. Now I see it differently.
It forces a gap. A pause. A stretch of time where I can’t rush ahead.
I’ve stopped fighting that.
Instead of trying to cram productivity into that window, I let it be quiet space — listening, stretching, letting the dogs in and out again (because of course), and just easing into the day.
Turns out, my body was asking for a slower start all along.
What I drink first thing
Once I can have something, it’s usually warm lemon water with a pinch of sea salt. At least 16 ounces.
It’s simple. No fancy routine. It just feels good and helps me feel more awake without jolting my system.
The breakfast change that surprised me
One of the biggest shifts for my mornings has been moving to a savory, protein-focused breakfast instead of cereal or something sweet.
Not because I’m trying to be “good.”
Because I’m trying to feel good.
I’ve noticed my energy is steadier and my mood is more even when I start the day that way. Fewer crashes. Fewer moments where I suddenly feel shaky, foggy, or ravenous two hours later.
It’s not complicated. Just different than how I used to eat, and it’s working better for this season of life.
My newest addition: Balance & Burn
I recently added the Balance & Burn system, and I’m still in the early days with it.
I’m already noticing some internal shifts — mostly in how steady I feel through the morning — but I’m not seeing big outward changes yet. And that’s okay.
I’m paying attention without hype. Just observing how my body responds over time. That feels more sustainable than dramatic expectations ever did.
The grief layer (and why calm matters more now)
Some mornings I wake up feeling fine.
Other mornings, I wake up with that heavy feeling — like my heart got up before I did and immediately remembered everything.
I’ve noticed mornings are when my nervous system is most sensitive. Before the noise of the day. Before distractions. Before I can “push through.”
That’s why calm has become intentional for me.
Not for aesthetics.
Not to have a perfect routine.
But because those first moments shape how steady — or shaky — the rest of the day feels.
I’m not trying to master mornings.
I’m just trying to make them gentler.
What about your mornings?
I’ve shared what’s working for me right now — but your mornings might look completely different.
Maybe yours start in a rush.
Maybe they start in silence you didn’t ask for.
Maybe you’re already doing one small thing that helps, and you haven’t even given yourself credit for it yet.
It might be worth asking yourself:
• What actually helps me in the first hour of the day?
• What makes things feel harder than they need to be?
• Is there something I keep wishing my mornings had more (or less) of?
Sometimes the nudge to change isn’t loud. It’s more like a quiet tug. A thought that keeps coming back. A habit that doesn’t feel good anymore. A desire for mornings to feel less chaotic, less heavy, or less rushed.
You don’t have to overhaul everything.
But paying attention to what your mornings feel like — and what you wish they felt like — can be the first gentle step toward making them kinder.
If mornings feel heavy for you too — whether it’s stress, hormones, grief, or just life — you don’t need a full routine.
Pick one small thing that makes the first hour feel kinder.
That counts.
If you’ve made it to the bottom of this post, I’m guessing something here resonated—whether it’s navigating grief and growth, diving into natural wellness, or just trying to live a more intentional life in a fast-paced world.
This space is where I share what I’m learning (and unlearning), the tools that are helping me along the way, and the little things that bring joy, healing, and clarity—even on the hard days.
This space is where I share what I’m learning (and unlearning), the tools that are helping me along the way, and the little things that bring joy, healing, and clarity—even on the hard days.
Want in?
You’re invited to join my newsletter, Finding What Works—a weekly-ish note from me with practical wellness tips, nostalgic nods for GenX souls, and honest reflections from someone who’s still figuring it all out (but loves sharing the good stuff along the way).
This isn’t about perfection or pressure. It’s about finding what supports us, what lights us up, and what brings us back to ourselves—together.
You’re invited to join my newsletter, Finding What Works—a weekly-ish note from me with practical wellness tips, nostalgic nods for GenX souls, and honest reflections from someone who’s still figuring it all out (but loves sharing the good stuff along the way).
This isn’t about perfection or pressure. It’s about finding what supports us, what lights us up, and what brings us back to ourselves—together.
Click here to subscribe and come along for the ride. I’d love to have you in my corner.
Have a question or something to share?
✨ My blog exists because I know what it feels like to keep everything jumbled in your head — like a messy pile of clothes you can’t sort through.
Writing it all down brings clarity, calm, and sometimes even healing answers I didn’t know I was looking for.
Honestly, that’s why I keep showing up to write — it helps me make sense of things.
Even if you have no intentions of ever publishing your work, I highly recommend writing stuff down. It doesn't have to be a literary masterpiece or even full, grammatically correct sentences... just dump those random thoughts onto paper... you'll see what I mean.
*This blog centers the GenX experience, simply because that’s the lens I live through—but anyone looking for connection, natural wellness, grief support, or a little real-talk in this messy stage of life is more than welcome.
