Month: November 2025

For a long time, I believed that caring deeply meant absorbing other people’s pain. I thought being a compassionate person required emotional sacrifice. Staying up late worrying, saying yes when I needed to say no, and feeling responsible for everyone else’s healing.

Eventually, I realized the way things were going was not sustainable. I was emotionally overloaded, disconnected from myself and questioning my own worth because of my limitations.

That’s when I began exploring trauma-informed self-care and nervous system regulation. I learned that empathy doesn’t have to come at the cost of mental and emotional health and well-being.

Through a concept called care circuit activation, I discovered that it’s possible to “care without carrying.” That is, to show up with warmth, kindness and love while staying grounded in my own body, meeting my own needs, too.

The Cost of Over-Caring

There was a time when I measured my worth by how much I could give. If I wasn’t helping someone, solving something, or producing value, I felt uneasy. Like I was being lazy or indulgent and as though I wasn’t enough, just being me.

The needs of others kept growing, and I kept trying to meet them. But no matter how much I gave, it never felt adequate. I was tired, overwhelmed, emotionally stretched, and questioning both my worth and whether I deserved to do what I needed to recover.

How could I, and still meet the needs of everyone else?

This kind of caregiving pressure doesn’t always come with a clear breaking point. It builds slowly. The texts, phone calls and emails you feel obligated to answer, the never ending requests for volunteers at work and in the community, through the guilt of saying no, through the belief that your value is tied to being useful.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I was experiencing compassion fatigue.

I could still function. But inside, I felt like I was losing access to the part of me that could care for others and myself freely, without fear or exhaustion. Learning about compassion fatigue and compassion fatigue recovery gave me a name for what I was feeling and ultimately, it helped me to overcome those desperate feelings of inadequacy that had become all the more frequent.

What Compassion Fatigue Feels Like in the Body

Before I understood what compassion fatigue was, I experienced all the physical symptoms. My shoulders were tight even though I didn’t think I was stressed. My breath stayed shallow, like I was bracing for something. Ready to run a race at any moment.

I woke up tired, even after a full night’s sleep. And I often felt a strange mix of urgency and heaviness. Like I needed to do more but couldn’t quite move.

These are common signs of stress in general, but also of emotional overload. To differentiate between burnout and compassion fatigue, you need to listen to the signals your body is sending you.

You might notice:

• Tension in the jaw, neck, or shoulders that doesn’t ease with rest.
• Digestive changes like bloating, nausea, or loss of appetite.
• Sleep disruptions, including waking up frequently or feeling unrested.
• Racing thoughts paired with physical fatigue.
• A sense of emotional flatness, even when something good happens.
• Difficulty breathing deeply, especially during quiet moments.
• Feeling unworthy unless you’re helping, fixing, or producing.

These signals are signs that your nervous system is trying to protect you. But without intentional regulation, it can stay stuck in a loop of hypervigilance or collapse.

Recognizing these signs was a major step toward healing for me. It helped me see that my body was asking for care, and that I deserved to listen.

Discovering the Care Circuit

When I first learned about the care circuit, it was a real breakthrough. I finally had a name for what was affecting me as I was perpetually overstretched. I wasn’t broken because I was overwhelmed, and I wasn’t getting sick or old or weak.

Put simply, I just hadn’t been taught how to care in a way that included myself.

The care circuit is a set of neural pathways that support connection and emotional sustainability. It’s part of the nervous system that involves the prefrontal cortex, the vagus nerve, and the oxytocin system. When activated, it allows us to show up with warmth and kindness and compassion for others without absorbing everything around us.

Unlike stress-driven empathy, which can lead to emotional overload, care circuit activation creates a sense of grounded compassion. It’s the difference between carrying someone’s pain and supporting them as they learn to cope. One depletes; the other sustains.

For caregivers, empaths, and anyone who feels responsible for others’ wellbeing, learning how to make this shift is life changing.

This concept helped me understand why I felt so drained and why certain practices, like deep breathing or structured reflection, made such a difference. They were activating a part of me that could care without collapsing.

What Helped Me Reconnect

Once I understood that my nervous system needed care to recover, I began experimenting with repeatable mindfulness practices until I found the ones that helped me feel safe enough to care again. These weren’t dramatic changes, but they helped me create some boundaries around my energy, and some perspective about the needs of others compared to my own.

Here’s what helped me reconnect with my care circuit and open myself to the self-compassion that I so desperately needed:

Breathwork That Slowed Me Down

I started using techniques like extended exhales and box breathing. These helped regulate my vagus nerve and shift me out of urgency. Over time, I noticed my thoughts slowing down and becoming more grounded, and my body relaxing.

Structured Self-Reflection

I began journaling with prompts that focused on emotional clarity rather than productivity. Questions like “What do I need to feel safe today?” or “Where am I overextending?” helped me reconnect with myself.

Mindfulness Tracking

I began to record how various practices impacted me, specifically, what grounded me and what drained me. Tracking these patterns helped me make small adjustments that supported regulation.

Letting Go of the Need to Earn Rest

This was the hardest part. I had to unlearn the belief that I needed to be useful to deserve care. That shift didn’t happen overnight, but it started with noticing how often I tied my worth to output and making a commitment to myself to start choosing something different.

These practices helped me access a part of myself that could care without collapse, and in a way that energized me instead of draining me.

The Deeper Shift: Letting Go of Guilt and Reclaiming Self-Worth

The breathwork, journaling, mindfulness tracking practices helped, for sure. But the real change came when I began to question the beliefs underneath my overwhelm.

I had internalized the idea that my worth was tied to how much I could give. Rest felt indulgent. Boundaries were nonexistent. Saying no felt like failure. And my needs were ranked lower than low – in fact I wasn’t even sure how to get in touch with them anymore.

I recognized I needed to do more than address the symptoms of compassion fatigue. I had to address the root causes that had driven me to care too much, give too much, take on too much, forever. What I realized was that beneath all of it was a persistent feeling of guilt.

Guilt for needing space; guilt for not being available; guilt for wanting to care without collapsing. Learning to let go of that guilt was a slow process of remembering that I am worthy even when I’m still. That my presence, not my performance, is what truly matters.

Care circuit activation gave me a new lens. It showed me that sustainable empathy isn’t about doing more. It’s about being regulated enough to show up, consistently, with joy and calm. And knowing when to step back, when to rest, and when to say, “I care, but I can’t carry this.”

Reframing my self-worth wasn’t easy. But it was necessary. And it’s what allowed me to realize that every time I gave of myself was a choice.

Learning to Care Differently

Do you ever feel like caring too much is costing you your peace? The key is to learn how to care in a way that includes yourself. Care circuit activation helps us to become more regulated, centered, resilient and present.

It’s the shift from absorbing pain to comforting others. From providing guilt-driven care to choice-based connection.

You don’t have to earn your worth or prove your value by carrying what was never yours to hold. You are allowed to rest and care without collapsing. And you are allowed to be enough, even when you’re still. That’s where I started. And it’s where you can begin, too.

Let’s Start a Conversation:

Can you relate to the concepts of compassion fatigue and emotional overload? Have you ever tried any mindfulness strategies? Were they helpful for you? Have you explored the underlying beliefs that may be responsible for our tendency to give too much without caring for ourselves? What words of advice would you give to younger women, so that they develop healthy habits earlier in life?

I am a lone traveler and have been my entire life. When the opportunity arose to return to London after a hiatus of two decades (way too long), I jumped on it. The main reason for going was to attend the world premiere of The Hunger Games stage adaptation – I’m a longtime fan of both the books and the films. But as the show wasn’t until later in the week, toward the tail end of my eight-day trip, I started where I always do in a new city: with its museums and galleries.

After all, when you average nearly 20,000 steps a day (my tracker confirmed it – 14,500 on the “lazy” days), you earn the right to call it a cultural workout.

Curiosity as Compass

I’ve always been drawn to what hides beneath the surface – the carved emblem above a doorway, the ritual behind a ceremony, the invisible geometry that tries to bring order to chaos. Over the years, this fascination has led me through monasteries, temples, and even psychedelic art studios.

So when a client casually mentioned he was a Freemason, something clicked. Like a symbol revealing itself, I knew exactly where I needed to go next: The Museum of Freemasonry in central London.

What better city than London – the birthplace of modern Freemasonry – to explore a tradition that has fascinated (and unsettled) the world for three centuries?

Stepping Through the Bronze Doors

The museum occupies part of the Freemasons’ Hall – a soaring Art Deco structure completed in 1933 to honor Masons who died in the First World War. The bronze doors swing open to reveal a marble lobby so pristine it looks like a film set – Eyes Wide Shut meets Westminster. But the air here isn’t one of menace; it’s reverence.

Freemasonry’s essence, I quickly learned, isn’t in conspiracy or control but in symbolism – in using the tools of ancient builders as metaphors for moral and spiritual growth.

Inside glass cases, the Square and Compasses gleamed in silver and brass – the square representing integrity, the compasses restraint. Together they form a kind of moral geometry, the balance between inner truth and outer conduct.

Nearby, the All-Seeing Eye – that familiar triangle and eye seen on dollar bills – reminded initiates to act as though conscience is always watching. It’s a poetic idea, really: behave as if you’re being observed by your better self.

The Builders of the Inner Temple

Freemasonry, I discovered, began in early 18th-century London when working stonemason guilds transformed into philosophical societies. The cathedrals they once built from stone became metaphors for the human soul. Each member’s goal: to build his own “inner temple” – a life of virtue, patience, and skill.

In one display, two stones rested side by side – one rough, one perfectly polished. The caption read: The journey from imperfection to refinement. I lingered there for a while. Isn’t that what our 60s are about? Chiseling the rough edges, polishing the spirit, and finding new meaning in old symbols?

Symbols That Speak Across Centuries

Everywhere I looked, meaning unfolded. The Seal of Solomon – two interlocking triangles, fire and water, heaven and earth – symbolized unity and mastery. The black-and-white mosaic floors, much like the dualities of life itself, reminded visitors that light and dark always coexist.

What struck me most wasn’t the secrecy but the humanity of it all. Behind the myth of secret handshakes and shadowy cabals, Freemasonry has long stood for education, charity, and self-improvement. Its members have included George Washington, Mozart, Winston Churchill, and Mark Twain – men drawn to its blend of fellowship and philosophy.

Beyond the Myths

Freemasonry has endured centuries of misunderstanding. It’s been banned by dictators, romanticized by writers, and scapegoated by conspiracy theorists. Yet walking through the museum, I saw something simpler: an ancient tradition that still whispers the same message – build with integrity, live with purpose, seek the light.

And for a woman traveling solo in her 60s, that message resonated deeply. Our journeys – literal and spiritual – are built one stone at a time.

As I stepped back out onto the London pavement, taxis honking and the city alive around me, I looked once more at the hall’s elegant façade. Geometry and grace, secrecy and openness – all woven into the same fabric.

Perhaps mystery isn’t something to be solved but savored.

If You Go

Museum of Freemasonry

 60 Great Queen Street, London WC2B 5AZ, United Kingdom

  museumfreemasonry.org.uk

  +44 20 7395 9257

  Open: Tuesday–Saturday, 10:00 am – 5:00 pm

  Admission: Free

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Do you like visiting galleries and museums when you travel? What do you like to pay attention to – the expositions, the philosophy or something else? Do you reflect on the lessons you learn from each place you visit?

It’s not looking good for them.

It’s not looking good for them.

For many of us, our tank feels full of advice on how to live with meaning, be happier, healthier, and think positively. I’m one of those authors who writes about it! After reading 14 books on positive aging, I can confirm the tank is full. And the books keep coming.

The reality is that, as important as all the counsel is to our well-being, we do get older. That process started at ground zero when we were born and will not stop until we do.

So, my question to you is, “How do you navigate the realities of getting older with the desire to make your life the best possible?” Alternatively, “What do you expect if you attend to nurturing in yourself the habits linked to aging well?”

We Do Not Fail at Aging

Researchers and authors can leave us believing that if we think positively enough, surround ourselves with enough community and love, and live a purpose-driven life, we will waltz through our old age hardly missing a step. Don’t forget to reduce stress, eat a Mediterranean Diet, exercise an hour a day, and sleep soundly! There are a few researchers out there focused on living forever using the wonders of medical science.

If you are like me, it is easy to feel like a failure at all of this if I feel tired, or worry about going down steps, or need to adjust activities due to arthritis, for example. Do I get an F for the year because I had my shoulder replaced? Have I failed at aging well? What about you? What do you think when you experience age-related issues?

Frankly, we need to be clear that by following all the good guidance we are not stopping the aging process. We simply are helping to make each moment the best it can be. To believe otherwise is a kind of agism much like the illusion of ‘anti-aging’ products and services. We know there is no such thing.

Positive aging includes managing our expectations. We don’t assume inevitable decline. When we take care of ourselves, we are not resisting decline, we are managing it. We are focusing on our strengths and being resourceful about navigating any limitations.

So, we may not “waltz” through our old age. We may find other forms of dancing that work better for us as we go.

We Are Partners with Aging

We wake up each day being who we are and feeling how we feel. Then, we make choices. We can listen to what our bodies are telling us and adapt. In doing so, we are basing our actions on our truth and not a fabricated vision of what ‘ought to be’. That does not mean we ignore all the valuable advice about aging well that we are privileged to know. We keep it in mind and approach it our way.

Start the Day with Noticing

What if you begin your day by noticing how you feel physically and mentally? Then, choose the direction of your day from there, at least to the degree you can. Does tango feel right? Or perhaps it is a waltz time for you, or a two-step kind of day. For example, I may have a workout, baking, writing, and gardening on my list for the day. If my energy is low, that list may feel overwhelming. So, instead I walk with a friend, write and then putter in the garden.

Perhaps, like my husband, an arthritic knee is acting up. He will choose to ride his bike rather than walk. Or, like one of my clients who is known to volunteer when asked. At one point, she just did not have the energy for one more committee/task. So, she said, “No.”

Don’t Ignore Your Body’s Feedback

Sometimes our body does not whisper, it shouts. A good friend in her 80’s recently survived pulmonary embolism. It has changed her life for now. She is making gradual progress toward being able to live as she had before. Her gratitude for being alive is remarkable.

To want to be as happy and well as possible is worthy of our attention. So, it is worth understanding what nurtures happiness and wellness. At the same time, over the years we need to adapt how we approach that. If one setback happens, that does not mean that our quest to live well is over in all ways. It means that it is time to adapt and continue to flourish in the ways that are possible at this moment.

The key is to hold a positive vision for what we want for ourselves in the future. That is our forward momentum, no matter what the circumstances of today. We are dancing with our personal aging process.

Be Happy to Be Here

What matters is that we are here and have the blessing of being our age. Centenarians often talk about gratitude and what enlivens them, in contrast with focusing on what is wrong. A great example of this is found in the book by Sister Jean, who recently died at 106. Her focus was on serving her Loyola basketball team, right up until the end, as their Chaplain. In her way, she danced with them even from her wheelchair on the sidelines.

It is a matter of focusing on what we can influence. By now, we have learned that believing we have full control is an illusion. To influence aging well, it is important to keep dancing. Simply adjust the dance when you need to.

Let’s Reflect:

How have you adjusted to physical changes over the years? Do you think you should be able to control your aging process more or are you more focused on influencing it as much as you can? What is your reaction to all the advice about how to age well?