Guest Blog: Gentle Practices That Carry Me Through Low-Energy Days by Ntathu Allen
A note from Sarah: Ntathu Allen is a long-time friend of Mind & Mountain and a meditation teacher inside our Active Recovery Library within Mind & Mountain Training. Last month, Ntathu sent an email similar to what you will find below, and I loved it so much I asked if she would transform it into a blog for us.
I hope her writing touches you as much as it did me. And if you’re a member or considering membership, check out the guided meditations from Ntathu inside your Bonus Library. Her voice is as calming and supportive as her writing - maybe even more so!
P.S. the photos in the blog are added from my catalog, some peaceful and beautiful images to go with these loving words.
Gentle practices that carry me through low-energy days
Ntathu Allen
March 2026
There are seasons in life when your energy feels low.
When your body gently asks you to slow down, even if life around you is spinning.
That was me, caring full-time for my mum as she lived with Alzheimer’s.
It reminded me how much we do, often without realising the emotional and physical toll it quietly takes on our bodies and hearts.
Because, like many of us in the sandwich generation, caring for others can make it difficult to take the time we need to pause, rest and recharge.
We don’t simply stop, even when we might dearly wish to.
We keep going.
We adapt our schedules, often in ways no one sees.
We carry on, quietly holding so much.
And somewhere along the way, it can become “normal” for our own needs to slip from the table, as our energy quietly fades into the background.
When caring for others leaves little room for you
There was a night I remember clearly.
Standing in the kitchen at 10:30 pm, staring into a sink full of dishes after a day spent cheering my girls on at work, making sure Dad kept his medical appointments, and ensuring Mum’s supplies were ready for the morning shift of carers.
I sighed.
Not just from tiredness…
but from that deeper kind of exhaustion that comes from always being “on duty".
Always physically present.
Emotionally available.
Mentally alert, even as my mind longs for rest.
It was another gentle sign that my need for rest had quietly slipped through the cracks – again.
Perhaps you know that feeling too.
That quiet promise we make to ourselves:
Tomorrow I’ll rest. I’ll go to bed earlier. I’ll do something for myself.
And yet… tomorrow comes, and you are still “on duty".
Lack of energy leaves little capacity to care for yourself…
yet not caring for yourself leaves you even more depleted.
The quiet weight we carry
There’s something else I’ve been reflecting on during this season.
How much caregiving, especially for elderly parents and relatives, is simply expected of us as women.
The unspoken rules.
The assumptions.
The invisible responsibilities woven into daily life, as though this is just what we do.
We become the ones who hold everything together.
The ones who anticipate needs before they are spoken.
The ones who keep going even when we are exhausted.
And because we can do it…
we just get on and do it.
But that doesn’t mean it is light.
Or easy.
Or without impact.
Over time, that quiet, continuous giving can leave us functioning on autopilot…
our energy stretched thin, pulled in many directions, with little space to pause, rest, and reset.
Which is why, in this season of caregiving, I’ve come to see something differently:
Rest is no longer just self-care.
It is an act of kindness.
A practice of tenderness.
A gentle reclaiming of space within a life that asks a lot.
Not through force.
Not through trying to fix everything first.
But through small, tender moments of rest and self-care.
A softness that quietly resists the pressure to keep going, no matter what.
When rest doesn’t come easily
One of the hardest things I’ve learned as a caregiver is this:
Even when you understand the importance of self-care…
it doesn’t mean you have the capacity to do it in the way you once did.
Long walks.
Structured routines.
Time for yourself.
Sometimes, those things simply aren’t available.
And that’s where I had to gently shift my thinking.
Instead of asking,
“How can I get back to my usual practice?”
I began asking,
“What is possible for me… in this moment?”
Sometimes that meant taking five minutes while the carers were present to sit quietly with a cup of tea.
Sometimes it meant opening the front door, taking a soft breath, and noticing the colour of the sky.
Sometimes it meant placing one hand on my heart, one on my belly, and whispering the following:
“Ntathu, you are doing OK.
Breathe in peace.
Breathe out worry.”
These small acts, though simple, shifted my energy.
They became gentle reminders to offer the same care to myself that I so often give to others.
And as a high-achieving, ambitious woman who grew up seeing women doing all the things without rest, I see that as an ongoing lesson.
Music as medicine
Listening to music, especially kirtan, gentle devotional chanting, became a steady companion, helping me unwind at night or ease into my day.
Wrapped in my duvet, I would simply listen or hum along.
I didn’t have to do anything.
Just rest in bed, listen and receive.
Letting the energy of the chant fill and nurture my soul and hold me when I didn’t have the energy to hold myself.
Songs that hold memory and joy
Music also became a bridge, not just to rest but to connection.
My mum has always loved singing hymns.
And during difficult days, when she felt anxious or unwell, we would sit together, hold hands, and sing.
And something would soften.
Her breathing.
Her body.
The space around us as we squeezed hands and sang her favourite songs.
In those moments, I was reminded of the following:
Care isn’t only about tasks.
It’s also about presence, memory, and shared connection.
If you are moving through a low-energy season, you might gently ask yourself:
What songs hold you when you’re feeling low?
Movement without leaving the bed
During intense days of care, I didn’t always have the energy to wake up, get up, and move the way I once did.
So I stopped trying to push through.
Instead, I stayed in bed and moved gently.
I would give myself a self-love hug, roll my shoulders up to my ears and lower them, make small circles with my nose, do gentle wrist and ankle rotations and wiggle my toes and fingers.
Small movements, but enough to reconnect me to my body.
And that shift – from pushing and overriding my energy to listening to my body- made all the difference.
Words that heal
Writing prayers, poems, and affirmations has long been part of my practice.
During low-energy days, I often returned to words I had written in earlier seasons.
And I realised something:
Even when we feel depleted, we are still supported by what we have already lived, learned, and created.
Sometimes healing is not about adding more to our plate.
But about letting go of the need to do more and returning to what already holds us.
Resting into gratitude
At the end of the day, when everything felt like too much, when the day had asked a lot of my body, my mind, and my heart.
I kept things simple.
A few whispered gratitudes.
A deep breath.
And rest.
Not a perfect 8 hours of sleep.
Just the rest that was available.
A gentle invitation
If you are in a season of caring, holding, supporting others…
and your energy feels low…
Please know this.
You are not doing it wrong.
You are responding to a life – and a role – that asks a lot of you.
In ways that are often unseen.
And rarely acknowledged.
So instead of asking more of yourself…
What might it feel like to meet yourself where you are?
Gently.
Honestly.
Without pressure.
Not as another task on your list.
But as a quiet act of self-care.
Because even in the busiest, most demanding seasons…
there is still space, however small, for you and your restoration.
And remember, as members of the Mind & Mountain community, you have built-in support from a coach and a community of folks who understand your experiences and can help you find moments of connection, comfort, and care that include you.
A small offering
If you are feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, or simply in need of a moment to pause, I created something gentle for you.
The 1-Minute Calm Kit for Grieving Caregivers offers simple, supportive practices — including a short breathing exercise, affirmations, and a one-minute grounding pause — to help you find a little steadiness amid a full day.
You can return to it whenever you need.
https://ntathu-allen-yoga-inspires.kit.com/calm-kit
You can also get more of Ntathu’s writing through her semi-weekly newsletter, Cherish. Sign up for that here.
Ntathu’s Meditations inside Mind & Mountain:
Ntathu is a guest teacher inside our M&M Active Recovery Library, offering a series of guided meditations for current M&M Training members. They’re designed to support your Active Recovery Days and the days she writes about above, when you need some support and care that’s of a less-active sort. Try one of these and enjoy the bliss!
- Peaceful Start to your Day (4 min)
- Releasing Tension from the Body (5 min)
- Breathing for a Calmer Mind (5 min)
- Unwind & Rest (11 min)
- Yoga Nidra (53 Min)
Ntathu Allen is a yoga teacher, meditation guide, and writer who supports caregivers and busy women in resting, restoring, and reconnecting with themselves through gentle, accessible rest practices and mindful self-care. Drawing on her lived experience of caring for her parents, Ntathu shares soulful reflections and practical tools that honour rest as a vital, healing part of everyday life.
You can explore her work at https://www.yogainspires.co.uk