Hello. Today I am writing early one morning, looking out of my window, unsure what will emerge.

The sky inspired me. The palest blue streaked with long bands of pinks, creams, and greys drew me into wonder at its colours, textures, and patterns, some subtle, some bold. It is windy, and every few moments a strong gust catches the leaves of nearby trees, making them sway in a lively dance. Their soft rustling forms a backdrop to the raucous calls of seagulls and the melodious song of blackbirds. The cooing of pigeons joins this morning orchestra. In the distance, gulls fly by, their bodies silvered by the sun. No moment is the same. An ever-dynamic kaleidoscope of sights and sounds. We don’t have to go far to encounter beauty, I thought. Look out the window, and it is there.

I found myself reflecting on how all this relates to our internal landscape. The trees, wind, and birds show us the natural rhythm of life, the flow from moment to moment. Yet sometimes our inner world lacks such fluidity. Thoughts and feelings can feel tight, trapped, and stuck in habitual patterns. Even when we notice these “stuck times,” it can be perplexing to find a way back to the flow. One experience this week illustrated this for me.

The local wildlife group was hosting a seawatch event, a morning inviting the public to learn about our wonderful local cetaceans. I wanted to support the event and its organisers. Usually, I would feel enthusiastic, but that morning I had low energy and a rather flat mood. Socialising felt like too much effort, and I found myself thinking I might not enjoy it. There was a subtle familiarity in this negative internal dialogue.

Then another part of me said, “Perhaps you’d actually feel uplifted by going.” I felt unsure, but decided to go and see what happened.

The experience surprised me. I was immediately greeted by wildlife friends, smiling warmly. Their kindness and affectionate greetings instantly released me from some of that inner stuckness. I felt connected again. Conversations about wildlife came easily, and soon I found myself sharing stories about the Bempton gannet chick I’ve been following, and discussing the season’s amazing cetacean sightings. No dolphins appeared that day, but we enjoyed the incredible mosaics in the sea watch centre. I felt animated, back in the flow of the present moment, and left feeling very pleased with my decision. It turned out to be a wise choice.

This week’s self-kindness invitation is to pay attention to times when you notice yourself in a repetitive negative pattern of thinking and feeling, perhaps experiencing a sense of stuckness. Bring kindness and compassion to yourself. Is there an action you could experiment with that might help you reconnect with the flow of your inner kaleidoscope?

Good luck with the intricacies of your inner world, and may you find small ways to glide back into presence and ease.