I’ve started to notice something about myself.

I like to fix things.

Not broken appliances (although I’ll give it a go). I mean situations. Emotions. Timetables. Homework. Sibling disagreements. Awkward silences. Future problems that haven’t even happened yet.

Somewhere along the way, I seem to have taken on the role of Chief Fixer of Everything!

Micromanaging is usually something I hear about from friends about the workplace — the boss who checks every detail and struggles to let go. But I’ve realised it can quietly creep into family life too.

And if I’m honest, I think I might be doing it.

Life shifts, children grow, dynamics change — and without even noticing, I think I’ve tried harder to hold everything together. To make sure everyone is okay. To smooth the bumps before they turn into bruises. To keep all the plates spinning nicely.

As if by fixing every little thing, I can prevent the bigger things.

The trouble is, the older they get, the trickier it becomes.

When they were little, being hands-on was part of the job. Organising, reminding, sorting, checking. It felt necessary. Now though, I find myself over-reminding about homework. Over-checking plans. Overthinking their friendships. Offering solutions before they’ve even finished their sentence.

And more often than not… I am noticing I can get it really wrong!

Because what feels like helping to me can feel like pressure to them. What feels like support can feel like control.

When looking into this topic, most micromanaging doesn’t come from being bossy (like my children may say). It comes from love. From wanting our children to be okay. From wanting to protect them from disappointment or struggle.

But here’s what I’m slowly learning:

• Not every problem needs fixing.

• Not every silence needs filling.

• Not every forgotten PE kit/homework jotter is a parenting failure.

Advice from others highlights that sometimes the bravest thing we can do is to pause.

Instead of jumping in with answers, I’m trying (not always succeeding) to ask:

• “What do you think you’ll do?”

• “How can I support you?”

• “Do you want advice, or do you just want me to listen?”

I’m learning to let natural consequences teach the lessons I don’t need to lecture about. I’m learning that a bit of discomfort isn’t a bad thing. I’m learning that their resilience grows when I step back, not when I step in.

It’s uncomfortable. Especially when you’re used to being the fixer.

But maybe as our children grow, our role changes too. Maybe we move from fixing everything… to guiding gently. From managing every detail… to helping from the sidelines.

I won’t get it right every time. (I definitely won’t.)

But I’m starting to wonder if fixing everything is really worth it — or if what they actually need is a mum who trusts them enough to figure some of it out themselves.

And maybe that’s part of my own restoring and renewing too — loosening my grip just enough to let them grow.

 

The 5am Club   – Is It Really Worth It?

I do love a good self-help book or podcast, and since I started reading and listening to them over a year ago, one message keeps coming up time and time again: many successful people wake up at 5am. They’re part of what’s known as the 5am club.

Since my children were small, I’ve been used to getting up early – not always by choice! But after hearing more about the benefits of intentionally starting the day at 5am, I made a conscious decision to commit to it. Whenever I mention this to friends or people I’ve just met, they usually look at me as though I’m slightly mad and tell me they could never do it. I used to think that too. But having done it consistently, I can honestly say there are real benefits.

In the summer months, I would often meet my sister for a run. With the early daylight, it felt easier to get up and it was such a positive way to begin the day. Even through the darker winter mornings, I’ve continued the routine. Working full-time, with three children and two dogs, that two-hour window before I leave the house at 7am is invaluable. It gives me time to get myself ready, prepare lunches, and gently get everyone else organised.

The most noticeable difference? I don’t feel stressed.

Before, mornings felt frantic. I would rush around trying to get everyone (including myself) out of the door, and by the time I arrived at work I was already overwhelmed and short on patience. Now, I arrive feeling calmer and more in control. I haven’t spent the morning nagging, and that sets a much better tone for the rest of the day.

Another thing I really value is the calm. There’s something special about the quiet of the house before everyone else wakes up. Sometimes I exercise, sometimes I simply enjoy a cup of tea in peace (or tackle the dishes from the night before!). That uninterrupted time feels like a small act of self-care. Many advocates of the 5am club use the time for meditation, journaling or personal development. Meditation is something I’d like to explore more, and this early window feels like the perfect opportunity to build that habit.

Beyond the practical benefits, there are also wider personal gains. Waking early can strengthen imagination and creativity, increase flexibility in how you approach challenges, sharpen focus and decision-making, and improve productivity. It encourages goal-setting because you have dedicated time to think about what you actually want from your day – and your life. There’s also something empowering about doing something that once felt difficult; it builds resilience and even a little courage.

Do I always feel full of energy? No. Some days I feel great, and other days I’m ready for bed at 8pm! But overall, I do feel more productive and generally more energised. The key for me has been consistency and going to bed earlier to make it sustainable.

I often try to persuade others to give it a go because starting the day with intention really can make a difference. If you’re looking for a new challenge, why not try it for a couple of weeks and see how it feels? You might just find it’s worth it.

One of my favourite books that I’ve read recently is The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma. I really liked how it was told through a story, yet carried so many clear messages and practical ideas to help you live a happier life. Being happy is something I have always tried to be and strive for, but when difficult things happen, that sense of happiness can easily be knocked. I was therefore so glad to read this book, as it has helped me begin to find joy and contentment in each day again.

One of the clearest messages in the book is the idea that we should live each day as if it were our last. When I first read that, I thought it sounded quite morbid. I didn’t really want to think in that way. However, over the next few days and weeks, I found myself reflecting on it more and eventually decided to give it a try.

Since then, I have been trying to do exactly that. Each morning when I wake up, I ask myself what I would want my day to look like if it were my last. I would want to spend proper time with my children — laughing with them, helping them, being present. I would want to check in with and speak to my wider family. I would want to notice and appreciate small things — the sunshine (or the rain, as we seem to have had plenty of!), walks with my dogs, and moments of kindness shown to others.

What I certainly wouldn’t want is a day filled with worry, conflict, negativity, or getting annoyed at the driver who doesn’t thank me when I let them pass.

I love how practical those themes are — they’re simple, but not always easy. Here are some grounded, doable suggestions that sit closely alongside the book’s messages and would fit beautifully with your Restore, Renew, Radiate philosophy too.

Living in the present (mindfulness without overcomplicating it)

• Start with certain moments in your day — your morning coffee, the school run, a dog walk. Choose one and consciously slow it down. Notice what you can see, hear, feel.

• When you feel overwhelmed, ask: What is actually happening right now? Not tomorrow, not next week — just now.

• Try a 3–minute reset: breathe in for 4, hold for 4, out for 6. It calms the nervous system and reduces stress.

• Limit multitasking. Do one thing at a time — even if it’s just washing the dishes properly.

Setting clear goals (values before outcomes)

• Instead of asking “What do I want to achieve?”, ask “Who do I want to be?”

• Choose 3 core values (e.g. calm, health, connection) and run decisions through them.

• Break goals into tiny daily actions — 10 minutes of movement, one healthy swap, one meaningful conversation.

• Revisit your goals monthly. Adjust them as you grow — they aren’t fixed contracts.

Continuous improvement (small shifts, consistently)

• Adopt the “1% rule” — improve something by just 1% each day.

• Focus on systems, not motivation. For example: keep fruit visible, trainers by the door, journal on your bedside table.

• Reflect weekly: What worked? What didn’t? What will I tweak?

• Accept setbacks as data, not failure.

Serving others (without burning out)

• Practice small daily acts of kindness — a message, a compliment, letting someone go ahead in traffic (without resenting it!).

• Share what you’re learning — books, podcasts, insights.

• Volunteer or support a cause in a manageable way.

• Most importantly, serve from overflow, not depletion. Helping others shouldn’t mean abandoning yourself.

If you’d like to deepen it slightly, you could also add:

• Protecting your energy (boundaries, saying no when needed)

• Gratitude as perspective training (one sentence a day)

• Caring for the body (sleep, nourishing food, strength training — especially important in midlife)

• Inner dialogue awareness (notice how you speak to yourself)

The beauty of Sharma’s message — and what makes it sustainable — is that it’s not about dramatic reinvention. It’s about choosing, daily, to live intentionally.

Restore · Renew · Radiate

 

Journalling: A Gentle Place to Start

Journalling is something I’ve read about for years but never quite committed to. It often felt like one more thing to do — another habit to get “right”. But as part of my January intentions, inspired by The Happiness Project, I’ve started to see journalling less as a task.

Gretchen Rubin writes about making small, manageable changes, and that idea really stayed with me. Journalling doesn’t need to be pages long or deeply insightful. Sometimes it’s just a few honest lines, written without judgement.

Roxie Nafousi often speaks about clarity — how putting thoughts onto paper can help us understand what we’re feeling, rather than letting everything swirl around in our heads. Writing things down creates space. Not to fix everything, but to see things more clearly.

Robin Sharma, author of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, reminds us that self-awareness is the starting point for meaningful change. Journalling can be that starting point — a quiet check-in with yourself, away from noise and expectations.

At The Gentle Path, this fits naturally into the three pillars:

Restore — Journalling gives us a moment to slow down and release what we’re carrying.
Renew — It helps us notice small shifts we’d like to make, gently and without pressure.
Radiate — When we understand ourselves better, we tend to move through the world with a little more ease and confidence.

If journalling feels intimidating, start small. One question. One sentence. Five minutes. That’s enough.

This January, I’m reminding myself that growth can start quietly, with a pen and a blank page.

 

Gentle Journalling Prompts

Restore
• What has been taking up most of my energy lately?
• What do I need a little less of right now?
• What helps me feel calm, even briefly?

Renew
• Is there one small habit I’d like to shift this month?
• What’s been working well that I’d like to continue?
• What feels worth my time and attention right now?

Radiate
• What am I proud of lately?
• When do I feel most like myself?
• What helps me show up a little better for others?