Life actually is a practice run
So in midlife, let's stop trying so hard
I’ve decided this might be my summer of being deliberately wasteful. My younger self is wailing like a banshee at the thought.
Waste time? Never!!
There was always something useful to be done. An email to answer. A cupboard to organise. A child to collect. A parent to call. A work project to finish. A podcast to listen to while walking the dog because heaven forbid I simply walked the dog.
We’ve all heard the phrase:
“Life isn’t a practice run.”
I’ve used it myself. Usually to persuade myself to make the bold decision, book the trip... or not eat the second chocolate Easter egg.
It’s meant to be inspiring - Don’t waste a minute of this one wild and precious life!! Take the chances. Make the bold choices. Say YES! (selfish and full-bodied) more and yes (meek and people-pleasing) less.
But recently I’ve started wondering whether that’s just complete bollocks.
Because for women in midlife - particularly Recovering Perfectionists like me - I don’t think life is something we’re supposed to get right.
It’s something we’re supposed to practise. Experimenting, learning, trying, forgetting, trying again, improving, adapting, figuring out, changing our minds, reassessing, rebooting, rebuilding, reshaping, reforming.
Practising. Not under grim pressure, but in glorious imperfection.
Somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed the idea that there will come a point when we’ve finally become that woman. Calm. Patient. Confident.
The woman with impeccable boundaries who never loses her temper, never doubts herself, never says yes when she means no and always knows exactly what to do.
She’s organised.
She’s balanced.
She’s exactly the “perfect” weight and shape, regardless of pregnancies, child-rearing, peri-menopause or any other of the wonderful phases we wade through while simultaneously trying to find calorie-free wine while scrolling the latest Wellness Industry missives on maximising midlife.
She has it all figured out. We strive for her and yet…. I’ve never actually met her. Especially in the work that I do , I get to see behind the perfect facade so many of us present.
Yet we’re forever trying to become her. Catch her. Resent her... and then chase her nonetheless.
But what if she doesn’t exist?
What if confidence isn’t something you develop? What if it’s something you practise?
What if boundaries aren’t something you finally master? What if you simply become a little more practised every time you say no?
What if mothering isn’t something you ever completely figure out? What if every stage simply asks you to practise a different version of it while trying not to implode?
What if caring for ageing parents isn’t something anyone is prepared for and perfect at? What if you practise. You get it wrong. You learn. You practise again.
And what if being yourself isn’t something you discover once?
It’s something you keep returning to.
The same with patience. Rest. Self-compassion. Speaking up. Asking for help. Letting things be good enough.
None of these are destinations. They’re practices.
I know!
I’ve spent far too much time, energy and calorie-laden wine trying to “arrive” there. And yet, if I’m honest, in nearly all of them I am better than I used to be. I’m not perfect but I;m more practised.
I’m not a boundary-reinforced bastion who’ll never need another lesson.
I’m a boundary-aware, increasingly practised woman who knows the next shitstorm, relationship, work challenge or family drama will ask me to build on what I’ve already learned while figuring out this new situation.
And somehow that feels like a much kinder way to live.
This week, in my Monday IG video, I asked one simple question:
What are you practising at the moment?
Not what are you trying to master. Not what have you finally nailed. What are you practising? Because the truth is, we’re all practising something.
Some of us are practising rushing.
Some are practising overthinking.
Some are practising apologising before we’ve even spoken (I’m actively trying not to apologise to everyone who merely crosses my path in a supermarket.)
Some of us are practising putting everyone else’s needs ahead of our own.
We’ve become incredibly good at those things - not because we consciously chose them or desperately wanted to excel at them, but because we’ve repeated them thousands of times.
Our brains simply strengthen what we repeatedly practise.
The wonderful thing about practice is that it works both ways. We can start practising something different. So this summer, because I’m dealing with something that is quite intense, I’ve decided to practise being wasteful. Or at least that’s how it feels to my productivity-obsessed brain.
When I first started practising being non-productive, even for a few minutes, it was nearly impossible.
I’ve been practising taking breaks and relaxing for a few years now, so I can happily take a book into the garden for fifteen minutes at lunchtime. I can stop work to bake something. I’m particularly well practised in the art of scrolling complete shit for ridiculous swathes of time under the umbrella of “switching off.”
But to actively do nothing? To not read, stretch, think, scroll, create or mentally reorganise my to-do list?
That is almost unbearably hard for me!
I can’t even walk the dog without a podcast feeding my yearning for learning.
So now I’m practising.
A couple of excruciating minutes sitting in the garden watching the bees on the roses before I leap up to water my thirsty spinach.
It’s actually funny to me how difficult I find it not to use every spare minute to think, do or plan. But it’s getting easier. A little more every few days.
Because I’m treating it like a practice, not a punishment, I’m not expecting to become a Zen monk by the end of the week. I’m simply teaching my brain that there might occasionally be an alternative.
Not because I’ve suddenly become someone who doesn’t like achieving things (or god forbid - lazy!!) But because I’ve realised how easily my worth becomes tangled up with my output.
If I’m not crossing something off a list, replying to an email, creating something or moving something forward, a little voice starts whispering that I should be. So I’m practising reminding myself that I’m a human being, not a productivity machine in a defiant act of self-support.
Big fixes rarely last.
I think this is where so many women become disheartened.
We have the breakthrough. Read the book. Do the coaching. Attend the retreat. Feel transformed. Then three weeks later our zen is on fire, our stomachs in knots and we find ourselves people-pleasing again. Overthinking again. Snapping at the kids again. And we decide it didn’t work. Or that we failed.
But maybe today is simply another opportunity to practise.
We don’t brush our teeth once and expect perfect teeth forever. We don’t go to the gym once and expect lifelong strength (sadly). We don’t meditate once and expect permanent peace.
Yet somehow we expect one insight to undo decades of habits, beliefs and conditioning.
Other things I’ve intentionally practised over the last few years?
Taking things less personally. (If you live alone with three teenagers, this is a life-saving strategy - for you and them.)
Patience.
Giving myself a beat before responding from a better brain rather than instantly reacting.
Backing myself.
And the rewiring happens!
Not overnight, but little by little.
A little more patience before responding.
A little more taking one deep breath before saying yes.
A little less playing the martyr before asking for help.
Perhaps five minutes without your phone.
Perhaps one afternoon where productivity doesn’t get the final say.
So I’m firmly in my post-perfectionist practising era, and frankly, I like it here a lot more than my hair-on-permanent-fire days.
Because life isn’t a performance we’re being marked on. It’s not an exam.
It’s certainly not something we either pass or fail.
It’s a practice. Especially for women in the shitstorm of midlife.
So maybe stop asking yourself when you’ll become more patient. Ask whether you’re practising patience.
Stop asking when you’ll master boundaries. Ask whether you’re practising them.
Stop waiting to become the woman who has it all together. She isn’t coming.
The woman who keeps showing up, keeps learning and keeps beginning again? She’s already here. Give her a hug and practise being her best pal.
Because maybe that’s what a beautiful life actually is. Not a life where you’ve finally got everything right. A life where you simply keep practising what matters.
Again. And again. And again.
I’d love to know what you’d like to start practising!
And if you want more space to practise being YOU … come join me in Marrakech next March for Soul&Spice 2027! You can start paying monthly now to spread the costs… it will be an unforgettable adventure - inside and out!
As always, if you need some structured space to practise your life, you can book some time with me. There’s my one hour Breakthrough Empower Hour or my 3 sessions Reset to get you started.
You can also sign up for my next group programme starting in September!