Why Taking Time for Yourself Matters


I did something quite rare this week.
I stopped.
I stepped away from my laptop, left the to-do list behind and went into nature. No emails.
No podcast. No agenda.
I just walked, sat, breathed and allowed myself to be there.
And honestly, it felt a little strange.
This Summer Has Been a Big One
This summer has been a big one for me.
I’ve been working hard to build my business and make the transition from being employed to being self-employed.
It’s exciting, challenging, and something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.
But when you’re building something of your own, there is always something else you could be doing.
Another email to answer. Another idea to develop. Another piece of content to write. Another conversation to have. Another small task that could move things forward.
There is always more.
And because it’s your business, it can be difficult to know when you’ve done enough for the day. There isn’t always someone telling you to close the laptop and go home. There isn’t necessarily a clear end point.
You have to decide that for yourself.
I’m still learning how to do that.
The Pull to Keep Going
There is a particular kind of pressure that comes with building something you care about.
It can feel energising. It can also feel endless.
When the work is meaningful, it is easy to justify doing just a little bit more. One more message. One more tweak. One more thought captured before it disappears. One more plan made for tomorrow.
None of those things are wrong.
The problem is that they can quietly become the default.
The laptop stays open. The mind stays switched on. Rest becomes something to fit in later, once everything else is done.
But everything else is never really done.
That has been one of the biggest lessons for me this summer. The list doesn't disappear because I work harder. In fact, the more I build, the more the list grows.
So perhaps the question isn't how to finish everything.
Perhaps it's how to live well alongside the unfinished work.
Taking Time for Yourself
This week, rather than finding another reason to keep working, I stepped away.
I went outside, into nature, and for a while I did absolutely nothing.
I didn't try to make the time useful.
I didn't listen to something educational.
I didn't think about my next piece of content.
I didn't turn the walk into a planning session.
I just stopped.
At first, I noticed how quickly my mind wanted to fill the space.
What should I be doing?
What needs doing next?
Am I wasting time?
It was surprising how uncomfortable the quiet felt at first. Not dramatic. Just unfamiliar.
As though I had left something behind that I should be carrying.
But gradually, things became quieter.
My breathing slowed. My thoughts softened. The world around me became more noticeable — the sound of the wind, the trees, the light across the fields.
And I realised how much I had needed that pause.
Not because I had earned it by doing enough.
Not because I had completed every task.
Simply because I am a person, not a machine.
Perhaps that is what taking time for yourself really means. Not waiting until everything is finished, or until you feel you've earned a break, but recognising that you need space simply because you are human.
A Thought From My Coaching Work
It made me think about the work I do in coaching.
I spend a lot of time having conversations with leaders about creating space to think, stepping back from the noise and finding a little perspective.
I believe in that work.
I’ve seen how powerful it can be when someone has room to talk, reflect, question their assumptions and hear themselves think.
And yet, it is very easy to talk about those things without always giving ourselves permission to do them.
That was the uncomfortable part for me.
I can encourage others to pause. I can help leaders notice when they are running too fast. I can ask questions about boundaries, energy and intention.
Then I can close the call, open my own laptop and carry on as if the same principles don't apply to me.
This week was a reminder that they do.
The work we believe in has to include us too.
The Pause Helped
When I came back, nothing dramatic had changed.
The emails were still there. The tasks hadn't completed themselves. The business still needed care and attention.
But I felt different.
A little calmer.
A little clearer.
A little less caught up in the idea that everything had to be done immediately.
And perhaps that's why stopping matters.
Pushing on can help us make progress, but stopping can help us notice whether we are still moving in the right direction.
I’m not writing this as someone who has mastered balance.
I haven't.
I’m writing it as someone who needed to be reminded.
This summer has stretched me in good ways. It has asked a lot of me, and I have asked a lot of myself. I’m proud of the work. I’m excited about what is ahead.
But I don't want to build a life where stopping feels rare.
I want to build one where rest has a place. Where quiet is allowed. Where a walk can just be a walk. Where doing nothing for a while doesn't need to be justified by what it produces afterwards.
So this week, I stopped.
And I think I’ll need to keep practising.
Maybe that's the point.
Stopping isn't a one-time decision. It's something we return to, especially when life is full and the work matters.
The list will still be there.
But sometimes, the most useful thing we can do is leave it behind for a while.



