Sheila's blog: To Just Be

Thanksgiving has just passed, and instead of sitting with gratitude in the usual way, I found myself thinking about the small exchanges that shape a year. Not the big celebrations, but the moments where you give something of yourself and someone simply appreciates it. There’s something steadying about that — a reminder that connection doesn’t need to be grand to be meaningful. It’s often the quiet gestures that stay with us the longest.

At the start of the year, I declared 2025 my “year of miracles.” It felt bold at the time — slightly brave, slightly optimistic. But I’m realising that miracles rarely come as big turning points. More often, they show up in the everyday choices I make. Choosing to begin again. Choosing to notice what’s still good. Choosing to shift my perspective even when things feel heavy. Choosing to give hope another chance.

And yet, hope doesn’t erase sadness. Reframing doesn’t mean pretending. Some days it’s important to let myself feel whatever I’m feeling without rushing to tidy it up. I’m learning that allowing space for the full mix — the joy and the sadness — is part of what makes life feel real. Maybe the miracle is simply being willing to hold all of it.

Winter tends to underline that message. Everything in nature slows down, without apology. Trees don’t worry about being productive; they just rest. Meanwhile, we often push through, as if pausing is something we have to earn. But rest isn’t a sign of stepping back — it’s a necessary part of moving forward. The quieter seasons matter just as much as the busy ones.

This, for me, is where pragmatic hope lives. Not the shiny version that insists everything will work out perfectly, but the grounded belief that tomorrow can be better, even if today feels uncertain. Some days that belief feels strong. Other days it’s more of a whisper. But even a whisper is enough to keep going.

As 2026 approaches, I can feel that familiar blend of anticipation and unknowns. A new year brings possibility, but it also reminds me that we don’t get to script everything. All we can do is meet it with as much openness as we can manage.

Recently, someone asked me, “How are you?”
It was such an ordinary question, but it has been echoing quietly ever since. The easy answer didn’t quite fit, and the truer one has been forming slowly — almost tentatively — over the days that followed.

Maybe that’s the real reflection as this year closes: that life isn’t always neat or easily summed up. We can be hopeful and tired, grateful and sad, optimistic and overwhelmed — sometimes all at once. And that’s okay. Rest matters. The small moments matter; and somewhere between the end of one year and the start of the next lies the honest, complicated truth of being human.

Perhaps the miracle is simply allowing ourselves to just be.

Sheila has worked in the asset management industry for over 15 years. She is married to a wonderful husband, is mother to two amazing children, has Secondary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis and lives in London. Sheila goes to the MS Therapy Centre in Harrow for physio and hyperbaric oxygen therapy once a week. Donations to support this wonderful organisation are very welcome. Sheila can be found on Instagram @MS_in_the_City. https://www.harrowmscentre.co.uk/donate

Tags:
• Wellbeing