Tag: self-compassion

Feelings & Fire, messy progress, Reflection

When Surviving Feels Like Failing

Mindrah

Life.
Sometimes life just… sucks.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve got a million ideas swirling in your head. You want to do them all. You want them done yesterday. But then life gets in the way.

For me, it was a week of study visits, followed by a week of high-stress assignments and deadlines. It feels like forever since I touched the things I actually wanted to do. Instead of thriving, I’ve just been surviving.

And I hate surviving.

I created Ash & Ember Rising because I didn’t want to just get through life — I wanted to live it. Intentionally. Fully. Passionately. I want to do all the things. Ten-people’s worth of things, if I’m honest. And of course, that’s impossible… but still, I expect it of myself.

Which means sometimes it’s hard to match my wants, my wild expectations, with reality.

What happens when reality wins?

So what do you do when life doesn’t match the plan?
When deadlines eat your days, or stress fogs your brain, or you just can’t do the things you hoped you would?

You could walk away.
You could decide it isn’t worth it.
You could label it failure.

But here’s the truth:

Just because something didn’t happen the way you wanted or expected doesn’t make it worthless.
It doesn’t make you worthless.

It makes you human.

Still here. Still trying.

I didn’t finish everything I wanted. Some things didn’t happen at all. But I’m still here.

Still caring.
Still showing up.
Still trying, even when it’s messy.

And maybe,

sometimes,

that’s enough.

From surviving to rising

Ash & Ember Rising has always been about this: turning the sparks we have left, even when everything feels burnt out, into steps forward.

So if you’re here, tired, behind, feeling like you’ve lost the thread of your own story — know this:

You’re not failing.
You’re still becoming.
And you’re allowed to start again, as many times as it takes.

Because surviving is not the end of your story. It’s just the messy middle. And the ember is still glowing.

Feelings & Fire, Reflection

The Stories We Carry (And Rewrite)

Mindrah

This week I want to talk to you about stories.
Stories we tell ourselves.
And stories other people tell about us.

You see, my family tells a lot of stories about me.
They say I’m fat, and therefore I must be unfit.
They say I never exercise, which reinforces their belief that I don’t care about my health.
They say I never go outside.
They say I don’t care about them.

I don’t share this for sympathy. I share it because it bothers me and because deep down, I know it’s not true.
And yet, hearing the same story enough times can start to plant roots. You begin to wonder: What if they’re right?

But here’s the reality:
I’ve lost over 40kg.
I did that by waking up before dawn, walking most days, and showing up for myself even when it was hard.
I walk outside. I leave the house five days a week for work.
I studied full-time while working full-time because I care deeply about building a better future.
And even when exhausted, I still showed up for my family. I called. I checked in. I listened. I made time.

Imagine if I had listened to their version of my story.
Imagine if I believed them.
Worse, imagine if I started telling myself those same things.

If I had, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be healthier, stronger, halfway through a Master’s degree, or learning how to rebuild when life suddenly veers off course.

This morning, everything feels a bit broken. My plans have unraveled. My path feels uncertain.
But instead of saying, “I can’t do this,” I’ve been drafting a new game plan.
A new story.

And now I’m wondering about you.

What stories are being told about you, by others, or by yourself, that need to be rewritten?
What falsehoods have been repeated so often they started to feel like truth?

Because me? I think you’ve got this.
You’re still becoming.
You’re still growing.

Remember the power of yet.
And write yourself a story worth living in.

messy progress, Reflection

Balance in the Blaze

Mindrah

Last year, there was a sudden change in my role expectations at work, and I found myself staring down the possibility of endless hours stuck in a place where I was expected to be professional… but had nothing to do.
It wasn’t an easy change to accept.
I was in the middle of becoming something new — of changing — and suddenly, I was being anchored in place.

So what did I do?
I chose to grow anyway.
I applied to study a Master’s in Teacher Librarianship.
I committed to NaNoWriMo and decided to write a novel from scratch.

Then this year, I realised that if I overloaded my schedule just a little more — took on one extra unit each semester — I could finish my degree this year.
I could be done. I could be free. I could begin again.

And that’s how I ended up working full time, studying full time, parenting… and still somehow trying to meet creative goals.
I didn’t mean for it to happen — but I went from too much time on my hands to chaos incarnate.
Deadlines. Responsibilities. And an overwhelming need for time I didn’t have.

Sometimes I think people imagine “balance” as this calm, perfectly planned thing:
Work for 8 hours. Play for 8 hours. Sleep for 8 hours.
Easy, right?

But real life doesn’t work that way — especially when you’re responsible for people and tasks and dreams.
And the first things we sacrifice?
Our play. Our rest.
The pieces that keep us whole.

So how do you find balance that actually sustains you — especially when you’re busy?

You find it in moments.
Tiny ones.
Choice by choice.

This year, I’ve been choosing balance one moment at a time.
Moments to breathe.
Moments that bring joy, even if just for 10 minutes.

I…

  • Celebrated my birthday intentionally and creatively, in the way I wanted to
  • Finally started learning to paint with watercolours — and it has been pure joy
  • Kept blogging every single week, even when it was hard
  • Created for the fun of it through play and printables
  • And on occasion, did something completely silly and unexpected (hello, Blooper Mascot)

Balance isn’t 8 hours of leisure to offset your 8 hours of work.
Balance is:

  • That one quiet moment where you feel peace
  • A spark of joy you didn’t expect
  • Giving your body what it actually needs — whether that’s rest, silence, movement, or dessert
  • Choosing not to do everything right now
  • Letting go of perfection, and allowing “done” to be enough

Balance doesn’t mean doing everything.
Sometimes, it just means taking one small moment to do something kind for yourself —
on purpose.

Because there is joy to be had in goats and dragon-phoenixes and life, if you can find it.

Feelings & Fire

A Birthday, A Beginning

Mindrah

I did it.
I celebrated my birthday.
My way.
With intention the whole day through.

Was it perfect?
No.
But it was mine and I chose it.

And when things didn’t go to plan.
I stopped.
I took a breath.
And I asked myself.
How do I want to go forward from here.
I chose on purpose.

This year my birthday didn’t just happen.
And it didn’t pass in a blink of disappointment.

Birthdays can be hard.
For some of us, they come tangled — with grief, hope, reflection, and a strange aching sense that time is both too slow and too fast.

This year I wanted to do my birthday differently. Not with pressure. Not with guilt. But with softness. With understanding. With kindness.

There’s often a strange kind of weight to celebrating yourself. Especially when the world teaches you to earn your milestones, or when old griefs sit close to the surface.

I didn’t want to pretend everything was easy. But I didn’t want to hide from the day either.

I wanted to choose me. I wanted to celebrate my way, for me and not for anyone else.

So, instead of a party, I built myself a small safe space — a blanket fort, a soft playlist, a simple reflection page.
I gave myself permission to exist exactly as I was: messy, hopeful, tired, alive.

I let small joys rule my day — setting out experiences that made my heart lighter.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t magic. But it mattered.

I realized celebration doesn’t always have to look like a fancy dinner, a party or cake.

Sometimes it looks like breathing.

Sometimes it looks like making room for yourself even when it feels awkward.

If you’re carrying complicated feelings about your birthday — or about any day you’re supposed to “celebrate” —you’re not alone.

There’s no wrong way to honor yourself.

Even a small, quiet beginning is still a beginning.

You’re still worth celebrating — exactly as you are.

One small corner of my celebration — a moment chosen just for me.

If you’re looking for a way to celebrate yourself — quietly, kindly — you can find my Birthday Reflection Pack here.

Fire & Fuel, Reflection

Tired, Tender, and Trying Anyway

Mindrah

Hello fellow adventurers.

Today’s blog is a little tender. I want to talk to you about my Health, fitness and movement journey — it’s been a complicated road.

If you’ve read my first blog or about me page you’ll know that one day I finally opened my eyes and found myself at the bottoms of a pit.

Not literally.

I didn’t recognise the life I was living.
Nothing looked like what I had ever imagined.

So…
I took the first step to reclaiming me.

I started with my health and with my body.

Because after years of neglect, I was

Tired
Exhausted
Sore
Suffering
Over weight
Overwhelmed
Dying
(Dramatic)

And I knew, I couldn’t keep going like this.

And I knew, it would hurt to try. But it already hurt not to.

So I gave up on starting tomorrow.
And I gave up on being perfect.

And I tried.

Along the way I found so many things that didn’t work for me.

But I didn’t quit. I just showed up again the next day to try again. Or to try something else. And sometimes, scarily, I tried something new.

And, after a lot of trial and error, sometimes I found something that worked.

It was hard to give up on perfect but in the messy process, I learned, I flourished, I flounder and step by messy, painful step, I figured it out.

I knew that my weight loss battle would be 80% what I eat but knowing is not understand and it definitely is not applying.

So I got help.

This time not from a book. Because I’ve read, I read and read and read but (embarrassingly) I never understood.
I found someone I could talk to.
A mentor to teach and guide me.
And a community to celebrate and commiserate whenever the need arises.

Eventually I completely changed what I eat each day but I started slow. I started with the meal I struggled with the most. Breakfast. And then I worked to change the next thing.

I did it through trial and error. I tried new foods. I learnt just how fussy I am.
I struggled with just how hard it can be to find healthy you also enjoy eating.
But I didn’t give up. Even when it wasn’t perfect.

I knew that 20% of my weight loss battle would be exercise. While my main priority was focusing on food, I also wanted to be fit. I wanted to make it up the four flights of stairs at work without dying. I started with walks. Five minutes, around the block, everyday. Then ten minutes. Then twenty.

And then when I was ready I moved on to weights and running.

I made slow and steady my mantra.
I reminded myself I am not running a race.
I’m making a life.
A life I can be proud of. A life I will be happy to live.

And now I wonder.
Can words really hope to capture the struggle?
Some days I cried.
Some I raged.
Some I hate.
Sometimes all I could do was breathe.

And the set backs were real.

I started a learn to run program that sang to my soul.
Then I developed Plantar Fasciitis and despite my stubbornness could no longer endure the pain of running.
I lost kilos.
Then had people who should be my biggest supporters make disparaging comments.
The scale went down.
Then back up.
And my clothes all got too big for me.
But I’m too scared to buy new ones in case o jinx it.
And then I looked into the mirror…

My struggles are proof that this journey is never smooth sailing. It’s a downright bumpy track.
Sometimes those bumps will knock you on your arse.

Let me help you get back up.
Let’s try again together.

In creating Ash & Ember Rising I’ve created a place to share my journey.
A place where we can journey together.
A place to share our adventures.

These are the processes I’ve been using put into printable format.
I hope they can help you too.
Because they are still helping me.

In each page you will find tools to guide you but most importantly you’ll find

Encouragement over guilt
Gentleness
Hope
Fire
Fuel
Realness over expectations

Fire & Fuel
Blogs to share wisdom and knowledge and printables that help you understand and apply your learning.

Track your food, hydration, rest, and rewards – without shame. Whether you’re rage-walking through your emotions or just proud you drank a glass of water, this is your space. Fuel yourself like the magnificent, exhausted creature you are.

If your journey hasn’t been linear, or perfect, or loud — you’re not alone. This series is for anyone who’s still trying. And that includes me.

If you’re inspired by this messy journey and looking for gentle ways to explore and affirm your path, my Dare to Dream printables offer reflective prompts, mindful colouring, and quiet validation. Find them on the Ash & Ember Etsy store.