When the Couch Is Exactly Where You’re Meant to Be

Over the last couple of weeks, I felt like something was a bit off with me.

I spent hours lying on the couch, completely absorbed in watching Midsomer Murders. Do you remember that very old series? Beautiful English villages, gentle music, and the most horrendously gory murders imaginable. My family was convinced I’d lost the plot.

But the truth is, I hadn’t lost the plot. I’d lost something else. My motivation.

Even the things I usually love had quietly slipped away. Catching up with friends. Painting. Gardening. Reading. All gone! With no motivation, I felt quite miserable, as if something was wrong with me.

The Realisation I Didn’t Expect

Then something shifted.

I realised that maybe there wasn’t actually anything wrong with me. Maybe I was simply tired.

When I look back on this year, it’s been a hard one. I’ve felt a bit like Sisyphus, endlessly pushing a boulder uphill only to have it roll back down again. Over and over. 2025 has not been easy.

My health has been a shambles. I began the year hospitalised with dengue fever. Then I injured my back. Then too much travelling and changing time zones turned me into an insomniac. Add to that menopause with her evil hot flushes, palpitations, and more broken sleep.

I realised my lack of energy and motivation made perfect sense and it dawned on me that I needed to practise what I so often encourage my clients to do. Stop pushing. Be kind. Listen to your body.

Making Space Instead of Pushing

So I stopped.

I took a few days off. I let myself nap. I stopped trying to push through. And something unexpected happened. I felt space. Real breathing room.

That constant sense of scrambling from one thing to the next eased. I wasn’t fighting the days anymore. I was simply in them.

One afternoon, I took out a blank piece of paper and looked honestly at 2025.

I’ve always believed that when the body develops symptoms, it’s trying to tell us something. Throat issues often ask what aren’t you saying. Heart symptoms invite us to look at where the joy has gone.

When life feels relentlessly hard, perhaps it isn’t failure. Perhaps it’s a signal to pause, or to change direction.

The Missing Piece

On that piece of paper, I wrote what had gone well this year and what hadn’t. What I’d enjoyed and what had drained me.

And something became very clear. I had been working hard, but without a clear direction. Pushing forward without really knowing where I was heading.

As Seneca wrote,

“If a man knows not to which port he sails, no wind is favourable.”

That was me this year. A little lost at sea.

Feeling into a direction

So I did an exercise I had used years ago, one that had quietly but profoundly helped to change my health. I like to think of it as feeling into a direction.

Years ago, during a period of significant health challenges, I found myself in a very difficult place. My life was full, busy, and largely unchangeable. Small children. Study. Work. Travel. There was nothing in my external world that I could realistically alter.

So I asked myself a different question. Instead of asking what should I change, I asked, how do I want to feel? The answer was surprisingly simple. I wanted to feel at peace. To have a little inner calm.

I realised that I always felt most settled in nature, especially around plants. So I began spending a few minutes each day in my garden. Sitting quietly with a cup of tea. Pottering gently. Nothing elaborate. Just showing up and, as I came to think of it, stealing five minutes of peace.

It was small and simple. And it changed everything.

So I did this exercise again last week. I wrote down the feeling I want for 2026. And with that, my motivation has returned and I'm off the couch! I now know what I want for the year ahead.

So how about you?

Here we are at the end of 2025. A little tired. A little drained. Another year looming ahead.

I know how I want to feel next year. How about you? How do you want to feel next year? What do you want?

Here's a little invitation to you - take out a blank piece of paper and reflect:

• What’s been good in 2025?
• What’s been hard?
• How do you want to feel in 2026?
• What is one small thing you could do every day to move towards that feeling?

And remember:

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day is by no means a waste of time.”
John Lubbock

Photo by konrad dobosz / Unsplash