Managing All the Voices
A Night Out and All Those Currents
A few evenings ago, a friend invited me to a gathering. I didn’t know the other guests, and some part of me thrilled at the chance to meet new minds and hearts. Another part glanced at the clock: there was client work waiting, something time‑sensitive I’d promised myself I’d finish that night. Underneath it all was a simpler truth — I was tired. It had been a long week. The idea of curling up early and letting myself rest had its own quiet pull.
Standing at my kitchen counter with my phone in my hand, I could feel the tug of three currents at once: the excitement of connection, the duty to deliver, the need to rest. My chest fluttered, my stomach tightened, my mind spun stories for and against each option. This is what I mean by “managing the voices.” Heart, mind and body don’t always agree. Add to that the buzzing of notifications and the endless promises of devices and AI, and it’s easy to lose your center.
The Inner Stack: Heart, Body, Mind
Inside each of us there is a living stack of centres—heart, body and mind—constantly informing us, sometimes colliding.
Heart: the source of longing, loving and the occasional distortions of resentment or pride. It is where passion arises, where we care, where hope is born.
Body: the instinctual intelligence that pulls and pushes. A gut feeling makes us lean in or flinch away. Muscles tense to protect, relax to welcome. The body often knows before the mind does.
Mind: the storyteller. It spins possibilities and narratives, inhibiting or inspiring us. It can generate hope, fear, anxiety, boldness and everything in between.
These three rarely work in neat harmony. The mind may have a bold idea that sends terror through the belly. The body may feel exhausted while the heart wants to connect. Yet this is the human weave we navigate daily.
When the World Moves In
There was a time when home could be a sanctuary. Now we invite the world into our living rooms through devices that deliver every opinion, update and opportunity right to our lap. AI tools promise to amplify what we can do; social feeds whisper we’re missing out. It’s unprecedented complexity, and the inner stack can feel overwhelmed.
In such a noisy ecosystem, claiming your center becomes both radical and necessary. The work isn’t to shut the world out; it’s to find the spaciousness to meet it from a place of groundedness.
Practices to Re‑Centre
Old wisdom remains relevant here. When you notice yourself pulled in many directions, try these gentle recalibrations:
Less haste, more speed: If you feel like you’re overdriving, you are. Slow down; let your breath extend. Often, quality of attention yields better outcomes than sheer quantity of actions.
Be gentle with yourself and those around you: Criticism is often a defense. When you catch yourself becoming harsh, pause and breathe into love and compassion. Start with yourself, then offer it to others—especially those with whom you feel entangled.
When you’re in flow, go: Everything ebbs and flows. Learn to read the cycles of your own energy and the timing of life. When creativity moves through you, ride it. When it ebbs, rest. Fighting the tide rarely ends well.
Reset your centre regularly: Meditation, movement, time in nature, connection with resonant people or pets—these are all ways to come back to yourself. They remind your body it’s safe, your heart it’s held, and your mind it’s not alone.
Find a trusted confidant: A friend, a coach, a mentor—someone who can hold your dreams and doubts with you. Being witnessed by another human being brings clarity and courage.
Learning to Listen
In that moment at the kitchen counter, I asked each centre what it truly needed. The heart said, “I want connection.” The body whispered, “I need rest.” The mind noted, “Our client work matters.” I chose rest that evening. I sent my friend a warm message, rescheduled the work with honesty, and slept. The next morning the email flowed easily and the gathering was still there, waiting another day.
Managing the voices isn’t about silencing any of them; it’s about hearing them clearly and acting from the place that honours the whole. When you claim your centre, the noise outside and inside becomes intelligible. Choices arise from a deeper wisdom. You stop spinning and start navigating.