Overwhelm is not who you are

Sometimes overwhelm greets us before the day even begins.

The worries threaded through your dreams, the problems you wrestled with in the night, the thoughts sleep only softened for a moment — they return with your first waking breaths, a ping in the pit of your stomach, sudden yet achingly familiar. No wonder your sleep feels thin and incomplete — more survival than restoration.

And in the morning, the body remembers: the chest tight, the jaw locked, the breath caught high in the throat — never quite reaching the belly where calm might live.

So we reach for the quick fixes — coffee, sugar, endless scrolling — small escapes that mask but do not mend.

And yet, overwhelm is not who you are. It’s only a messenger, reminding you to return — to presence, to wholeness, to yourself.

The gift is that now is always here. With each breath, you can pause, soften, and return.

Like the ocean, we are always moving — pulled outward, called back inward. Wholeness lives in the rhythm of return.

So in this moment, notice: where does overwhelm live in your body? In the tightness of your shoulders? The pit of your stomach? The shallow rise of breath?

What would it feel like to soften into just one breath, right now, and call yourself back home?

Overwhelm will visit. Just as the tide ebbs and flows, so do we.

But presence is always waiting for your return.

When overwhelm comes next, how will you choose to return?