Root & Rise Rambles #7: The Art Of Pausing

Dear ladies,

Welcome back to another edition of Root & Rise Rambles. Before you read any further, this is your invitation to pause. Really pause. Unclench your jaw. Let your shoulders drop away from your ears. Take a slow breath. Perhaps pop the kettle on and give yourself a few minutes where nobody needs anything from you.

Because if you’re anything like me, and many of the women who walk through the door at Root & Rise, life can sometimes feel as though you’re constantly moving from one thing to the next.

There is always another job, another meal to cook, another appointment to remember, another basket of washing or another person who needs something from you. And sometimes, before we know it, we’ve been so busy taking care of everyone and everything else that we’ve forgotten to check in with ourselves.

This week has been a rather perfect example of why those pauses matter.

Friday: Chickens, Dogs and Cleaning Ovens

Friday was another day in my School Holiday Diaries, a little Facebook feature I started in July.

The day began early with Melvin, Asha, Ruth and the flock. The dogs are let out of their respective crates and straight into the garden before Ruth decides that the carpet might be a perfectly acceptable alternative to the great outdoors!

Then it’s time for our morning chicken round. Coops are opened. Chickens are released into their enclosures. Fresh water is checked and replaced, usually because the little darlings have spent the previous day enthusiastically kicking debris into it while scratching around for corn.

By 8am, the next military operation begins… Dog breakfast. Asha runs straight into her crate as soon as she hears me preparing the kibble. Ruth, naturally, copies her big sister. Melvin waits patiently by the kitchen gate. Everyone has their own bowl and, somehow, despite my best efforts, there’s always somebody interested in what somebody else is eating.

And, of course, no morning would be complete without Ruth deciding that my dressing gown is the ideal opponent for a game of tug of war.

Once everybody else had been fed, watered and entertained, I finally got myself washed and dressed, packed more boxes into the car and headed off to the farm.

At the other end came the unloading. Then the unpacking. Then the cleaning.

And I mean proper cleaning.

After half a day, I’d conquered the hob, half of the Range oven, a collection of cobwebs hiding inside kitchen cupboards and approximately half of the kitchen floor tiles, which were hand-scrubbed with the sort of determination normally reserved for an Olympic event.

Eventually, I stopped. And that’s when I took a mindful walk around the orchard. There was something incredibly calming about wandering amongst the trees after a morning spent cleaning, sorting and doing. Just walking, looking, listening and breathing.

It made me think about the sensory experience that will eventually become part of visiting Root & Rise at the farm. The journey won’t simply begin when you lie down on the massage couch. It will begin before that. With the fresh air, trees, sounds of the countryside and the feeling of arriving somewhere that asks nothing of you except that you slow down.

I cannot wait to share that experience with you.

Friday evening brought a well-earned treat in the form of gluten-free fish, chips and mushy peas from our favourite chippy on Hipswell Highway.

Self-care often looks like meditation. And other times, it looks like fish and chips on a Friday night.

Both are entirely valid.

The Importance of Doing Nothing

On Sunday morning, I found myself having a little rest on the garden settee in Binley Woods, simply watching the three dogs play. I wasn’t engaging in productivity. Or cleaning, packing and trying to get ahead of myself. I was simply being there. And I was reminded, once again, how important those pauses are.

We often think that stopping means we’re wasting time. That we should be doing something useful. Ticking something off. Getting ahead. Being productive. But rest isn’t the opposite of productivity. Sometimes it is what makes productivity possible. Being present helps bring us back to the here and now.

Not replaying what happened yesterday or catastrophising about something that hasn’t even happened yet. Just now. The warmth of the sun, dogs playing, the sound of the birds and the feeling of your body being supported.

One of the simplest ways I know to do this is through the senses.

What can you see?

What can you hear?

What can you feel?

What can you smell?

What can you taste?

When we deliberately notice these things, we gently bring our attention back into the present moment. And the present moment is often far less frightening or overwhelming than those stories our minds have been telling us.

Sunday at the Farm

Later that afternoon, I headed to the farm and settled down with Rebel Gardening by Alessandro Vitale for a little allotment inspiration. Armed with a glass of Galodoro rosé, sipped from a traditional Russian podstakannik, I sat overlooking the front lawn.

At the moment, it looks rather worse for wear thanks to the drought we’ve been experiencing this summer, but even that has its own reminder. Nature has seasons. Things will flourish, things will rest. Sometimes they look a little bedraggled and desperately in need of rain. That doesn’t mean they’ve stopped growing. It simply means they’re responding to the conditions around them.

I think we as humans could learn a lot from that.

That evening, Isabel and I created the most wonderfully eclectic dining experience. A garden table. Two camping chairs. Our best Robert Welch cutlery. And a farm dining room that isn’t quite furnished yet.

Dinner was a soul-filling courgette, lemon and pea pasta. A tub of reduced (yellow label) crème fraîche from the Co-op, courgettes gifted from a friend’s vegetable patch, Rosemary and Sage from my kitchen garden, lemons and peas from the freezer and gluten-free pasta from the cupboard.

And there it was…Dinner!

Nothing particularly complicated or Instagram-perfect. Just a few ingredients brought together into something delicious. Going back to basics is exactly what brings joy and fulfilment back into life.

Dessert was even more special, as it was a fruit platter harvested from the orchard. Figs, Sloes, Damsons, Plums & more. Food grown by the land we’re now beginning to call home.

Honestly, this makes my soul sing.

Finding Familiarity in Times of Change

Sunday night was a campervan sleepover at the farm because currently, there are no beds in the farmhouse.

And do you know what?

I rather loved it.

During times of enormous change, there can be something incredibly grounding about a familiar space. For me, that familiar space was the campervan. I’m very grateful to 2025 Nicole, who made the decision to buy it for herself and her girls.

At the time, I probably couldn’t have predicted exactly how it would fit into our lives. But there I was, in the middle of moving house and starting a new chapter, climbing into a space that already held familiar memories. Grounding isn’t always about staying still. Occasionally, grounding comes with taking something familiar with you while everything around you changes.

So, lovely lady, I’d love you to think about this:

What helps you feel grounded when life is changing around you?

Perhaps it’s a particular place. A favourite jumper. Your own pillow. A walk you know well. A familiar scent. Music. Your dog curled beside you. There is no right answer. The important thing is noticing what helps you come back to yourself.

When Your Body Finally Pulls the Handbrake

Monday brought a rather less welcome reminder. I hadn’t really stopped working for seven days. And, while I was wandering around Sainsbury’s, my body decided it had had quite enough.

A migraine appeared. Not ideal when you’re standing between the supermarket shelves. It was another reminder of something I’ve spoken about many times. Our bodies whisper. They whisper through tiredness. Aches. Tension. Irritability. Poor sleep. That strange feeling that we’re running on fumes. And when we repeatedly ignore the whispers, our bodies find a more dramatic way to get our attention.

For me, Monday’s message was clear. Down tools.

So I turned to my four Ds.

Delegate it: Ask friends or family for help.

Delete it. If it really doesn’t need doing, let it go.

Defer it. It can wait until you’re feeling better.

Do it. But only the absolute bare minimum needed to make sure you’re fed, hydrated and rested.

My migraine recovery plan was hardly glamorous. Cheese, Oatcakes, Cadbury’s Dairy Milk. And a bed made from cushions and a fleecy blanket on the sitting-room floor.

Sometimes our wellbeing toolkit is full of beautifully scented oils, yoga and meditation. Other times, it’s cheese and cushions. Again, both count.

The important thing is giving yourself what you genuinely need, rather than what you think you “should” be doing.

A Very Slow Road Trip

Wednesday brought an exciting adventure!

Robin, Ruth and I moved the Daimler from Binley Woods to Hunningham. At one point, we reached the dizzying speed of 45mph. Then we lost a hubcap. There was a rather alarming clatter and, naturally, I confidently announced:

“Nothing’s fallen off the car because I would have felt it.”

How wrong could I have been?

The hubcap had, in fact, fallen off.

Following us was Vincent, my father-in-law extraordinaire, driving the Massey Ferguson tractor. After tinkering with it and getting it roadworthy again, he made his own majestic journey from Binley Woods to Hunningham Hill Farm at a positively frivolous 15mph.

Honestly, between the Daimler and the tractor, we were not exactly breaking any land-speed records. However, we got there safely. And perhaps there is another little lesson in that.

We don’t always have to move quickly to be making progress. 15mph can be perfectly enough. We may take the scenic route. We might even lose a hubcap along the way.

But we’re still moving forwards.

A Change of Scene

After cooking a vegetable pasta dish for my family, I escaped the familiar Groundhog Day of cleaning, packing, unpacking and answering the eternal family question:

“What’s for dinner?”

I headed to Mazon Interiors in Royal Leamington Spa for the Warwickshire Wellness Warriors Meet & Mingle event, hosted by the amazing Meeta Darji from Naturally Nourished with Meeta. It was such a joy to step outside my usual routine, talk to other people and enjoy some beautiful food courtesy of Scratch Cook Social and chef Rajesh Darji.

Nervous system regulation doesn’t always mean solitude. A lot of the time, what we need is human connection. Laughter, a change of scenery, a conversation that has absolutely nothing to do with the washing, the shopping list or what we’re cooking for dinner.

We are not meant to do everything alone. And I think that’s something many women forget when they’ve spent years becoming the person everyone else relies upon.

This Week’s Root & Rise Reminder

This week, my biggest lesson has been a simple one.

Pause before your body makes you stop.

You don’t have to earn your rest. You don’t have to finish everything first. You don’t need permission to sit down for ten minutes. The washing can wait. The emails can wait. The packing can wait.

You matter too.

And perhaps, just for today, you could ask yourself:

What do I need right now?

Not “what does everybody else need?” Not “what should I be doing?” Not “what will make somebody else happy?”

What do I need?

Maybe it’s five quiet minutes with a cup of tea. Maybe it’s a walk. Maybe it’s a massage. Maybe it’s asking someone else to cook dinner. Maybe it’s cheese, oatcakes and a fleecy blanket on the sitting-room floor.

There is no prize for running yourself into the ground. But there is something incredibly powerful about learning to listen to yourself.

So, lovely lady, before you rush off to the next thing on your list, take a breath.

Notice where you are. Feel your feet on the floor. Look around you. Listen.

You are here. You are safe in this moment.

And you are allowed to pause.

With love,