Rhodes to Wellness Coaching

09/01/2026

🍂 Hello, September. 🍂

And just like that… summer is beginning to loosen its grip.

The mornings are a little cooler. The evenings are getting shorter. The leaves are beginning to change, and somehow we’ve arrived at the “Ber” months already.

September feels like a little in-between season. A gentle shift from the slower days of summer into new routines, new rhythms, and whatever this next season may bring.

And maybe we don't have to rush the transition.

Maybe we can let ourselves ease into it.

Take a little longer with that morning coffee. ☕
Enjoy the crispness in the air.
Wrap yourself in a cozy blanket in the evening.
Spend a little time outside.
Breathe a little deeper.

Our bodies notice these little things.

After a busy summer, sometimes we need those quiet moments to remind ourselves that we are allowed to slow down. We don't always have to be doing, fixing, planning, or preparing for what's next.

Sometimes, we simply need to be here.

So as September begins, perhaps ask yourself:

🍁 What do I want to leave behind with summer?
🍁 What do I want to carry into this new season?
🍁 What would feel good for me right now?

No pressure. No perfect plans.

Just a gentle beginning.

Welcome, September. 🧡

Here’s to cooler mornings, cozy evenings, changing leaves, fresh starts, and finding little moments of peace along the way.

May this season be gentle with you. 🌿

— Janet

08/27/2026

This picture stopped me because I know this environment.

I experienced it in my first marriage, and I remember how much energy could go into reading the room.

Watching someone’s mood.

Choosing my words carefully.

Keeping the peace.

Trying not to make things worse.

What I understand now is that environments like this can teach us some pretty powerful limiting beliefs.

Those unconscious conclusions we can form about ourselves and the world based on what we’ve experienced.

Things like:

“I have to keep everyone happy.”
“It’s safer not to speak up.”
“My needs cause problems.”
“I’m responsible for other people’s emotions.”
“I need to be careful.”

And sometimes, even when we’re no longer in that environment, those beliefs can still quietly run the show.

We might still people-please.

Avoid conflict.

Overthink how someone might react.

Feel guilty for having needs.

Automatically try to fix the mood around us.

This is one of the reasons RCT became so meaningful to me.

Because it’s not just about understanding why we behave this way.

It’s about uncovering the limiting beliefs and unresolved emotions underneath the pattern, finding where they began, and working with what was never fully processed.

Because the adult me can know:

“I’m safe now.”

While another part of me can still be living by the rules I learned back then.

And sometimes healing is simply about giving that part of us permission to learn:

Those rules kept me safe then.
I don’t need them to keep me safe now.

We don’t have to spend the rest of our lives organising ourselves around someone else’s emotional weather. ❤️

08/24/2026

Eight months ago, I had surgery to repair a broken collarbone. Eight screws were put in to help hold everything together and give my body the chance to heal.

It was a lot.

I remember being told that it could take a year to fully heal. At the time, a year felt like such a long time.

Eight months in, I understand why they said that.

I’m not where I was.

But I’m also not where I want to be… yet.

There are days when I can live pretty normally. I do the dishes. I clean the house. I pick things up. I go about my day and think, Hey, maybe I’m finally getting there.

And then there are days when I’m holding back tears because the pain moves through my collarbone, up into my shoulder and face, reminding me that my body is still healing.

On those days, I stop.

I rest.

I take care of myself.

And if I’m being completely honest, there is still a little frustration there.

Why am I not better yet?

I think we see this in so many healing journeys.

In the beginning, we tend to have compassion for ourselves. The people around us often do too.

But as time passes, something shifts.

We start asking, “Shouldn’t I be better by now?”

Or someone else starts wondering the same thing.

We compare our healing to someone else's.

We look at Suzie on Facebook and think, She seems to be doing just fine.

But we don't see the days she struggles to get out of bed.

We don't see the tears in the shower.

We don't see the moments when she wonders if she is ever going to feel like herself again.

Healing is not a straight line.

There are steps forward, steps backward, plateaus, unexpected hard days, and moments when we surprise ourselves with how far we've come.

A hard day doesn't erase the progress you've made.

Needing to rest doesn't mean you're failing.

And not being where you want to be yet doesn't mean you're not healing.

So wherever you are on your journey, try to meet yourself there with compassion.

Your body, your heart, your nervous system—they all have their own timeline.

You don't have to rush healing just because you're tired of hurting.

You can be grateful for how far you've come and still wish you were further along.

Both can be true. 🩷

08/23/2026

You want the safe people to see you and the unsafe to be oblivious.

08/22/2026

The Healing Hangover 🌼

Have you ever done some deep healing work…felt lighter afterwards…and then, a day or two later, thought:

“Why do I suddenly feel so emotional?”

Or exhausted.

Tender.

More sensitive than usual.

Maybe teary for no obvious reason.

Maybe irritable.

Maybe your sleep feels different.

Maybe old feelings seem to be bubbling up that you thought you'd already moved through.

There’s a name we sometimes use for this:

the healing hangover.

And I think it’s something we need to talk about more.

Because healing doesn’t always end when the session ends.

Sometimes, something has shifted deeply and your system needs time and space to integrate what has happened.

In Root-Cause Therapy, we can sometimes see this after a significant release. The work may be complete for the session, but the person can continue to notice changes, emotions and sensations in the days that follow.

And this isn't unique to RCT.

You may experience something similar after somatic work, breathwork, trauma healing, emotional processing, meditation, bodywork, or other forms of deep personal work.

It doesn't necessarily mean something is wrong.

And it doesn't mean you need to do more healing.

Sometimes the most healing thing you can do…is stop.

Rest.

Drink some water.

Eat nourishing food.

Get outside.

Have a quiet day if you can.

Let yourself sleep.

Spend time with people who feel safe.

Journal if that feels supportive.

Cry if you need to.

Or don't.

You don't have to analyze every feeling that comes up.

You don't have to turn every emotion into another thing to work on.

You can simply notice:

Something is moving through me.

I can give myself space for this.

I think we can sometimes become so focused on healing that we forget that integration is part of healing too. 🩷

There is no prize for processing the most, the fastest.

Sometimes the deepest act of self-care is allowing your body and mind to catch up with the work you've already done.

So if you've recently done some deep healing and you're feeling a little more tender than usual…be gentle with yourself.

You don't necessarily need to push through it.

You might just need to slow down and let yourself land. 🩵

And if something feels overwhelming, persists, or you're concerned about what you're experiencing, please reach out to an appropriate health professional or your practitioner for support.

Healing is not a race.

There is wisdom in the pause, too. 🌿

08/19/2026

Sometimes the world can get so loud.

Not just from noise, but from notifications, social media, constant availability, endless expectations, old patterns, and the pressure to always be doing something.

Sometimes our nervous system simply needs less.

Less input.
Less stimulation.
Less urgency.

A few quiet moments can give your body a chance to notice: I don't have to respond to everything right now.

So today, if it's all feeling like too much...

Put the phone down.
Take a slow breath.
Feel your feet on the ground.
Notice what is around you.

You don't have to fix anything.

Sometimes, quiet is where the body finally gets a chance to exhale. 🌿

08/17/2026

I remember saving everything. I had a secret diary full of dates and incidents, what he said and what he did. It wasn't to store happy memories, it was to create a timeline and gather evidence. I knew that someday I would need it, and I did.

Living in that, stuck in fight or flight is exhausting. It's hard to focus, hard to think straight...hard to sleep.

If this is you, know that you aren't alone. And if you feel it's time to set some of this down, even just a little bit, I am here. 💜

With warmth,
Janet 🌿

Save your evidence.

08/10/2026

"Hurt people hurt people." Ugh.

It's a phrase I hear often, and if I'm honest, it makes me cringe a little.

Not because pain doesn't impact our behavior. It absolutely can.

But because this statement can unintentionally send a harmful message: that if you've been hurt, you're destined to hurt others.

As someone who works from a trauma-informed perspective, I've met countless people carrying deep wounds who go out of their way to ensure others don't experience what they did. People who choose kindness despite their pain. People who become cycle breakers.

Pain can influence behavior, but it does not remove responsibility.

And being hurt does not make someone harmful.

When we say "hurt people hurt people," we risk oversimplifying a much more complex reality. Trauma can increase reactivity, defensiveness, or survival responses, but it can also cultivate empathy, compassion, and a fierce commitment to doing things differently.

Perhaps a more accurate statement is:

"Hurt people can hurt people. Hurt people can also heal people. Hurt people can become the people they needed when they were struggling."

Our wounds may shape us, but they do not define us.

We are more than what happened to us.

08/03/2026

Recently I was reflecting on a time with my horses.

There was no agenda. Nothing I needed from them. I was simply observing.

I noticed a hesitation in them moving forward.

Years ago, I might have tried to encourage them forward, assuming they just needed a little more confidence.

Now I know better.

Instead of asking, "How do I get them to move?"

I ask, "What are they trying to tell me?"

Maybe they were uncertain. Maybe they didn't feel safe. Maybe they simply needed a moment.

So I waited.

I softened.

I listened.

And when they were ready, they took the next step themselves.

That moment reminded me of something I hear all the time in the healing world:

"Holding space."

It's become one of those phrases we throw around, but what does it actually mean?

To me, holding space isn't about fixing someone or convincing them to move faster than they're ready to.

It's about meeting them where they are.

Not where I think they should be. Not where they used to be. Not where they hope to be one day.

Where they are... today.

Sometimes that looks like sitting with someone while they search for words.

Sometimes it means allowing tears without trying to stop them.

Sometimes it's recognising that beneath frustration is fear... Beneath anger is hurt... Beneath shutdown is a nervous system asking for safety.

And sometimes it simply means not trying to force change.

Whether someone's pain began in childhood, through a difficult relationship, the loss of someone they loved, a health challenge, burnout, betrayal, or an experience that completely changed the course of their life... every person deserves to be met with curiosity before judgment.

Because healing doesn't happen when someone feels pushed.

It happens when they feel safe enough to be honest.

This is something my horses remind me of constantly.

Force might create movement.

But safety creates trust.

And trust creates lasting change.

That's how I approach my work, too.

I don't believe my role is to drag someone towards healing.

My role is to create a space where they feel safe enough to take their own next step.

Because I've found that when people feel truly seen, heard, and respected, they often discover they already have the wisdom they need.

Sometimes they just needed someone willing to walk beside them instead of pulling them ahead.

I'd love to hear what "holding space" means to you.

With warmth

Janet 🌿

08/01/2026

🌿 Welcome, August 🌿

As we step into a new month, August offers a gentle invitation—not to do more, but to come home to yourself.

In a world that often celebrates busyness, August reminds us that healing, growth, and change rarely thrive under pressure. They unfold in moments of safety, rest, and compassionate presence.

A gentle invitation for this month...

🌾 Care for your body.
Notice what your body is asking for. Perhaps it longs for nourishing food, unhurried movement, quiet moments in nature, or simply permission to rest. Your body has carried you through so much. It deserves kindness.

🌿 Support your mind.
If life feels noisy or overwhelming, see if you can create small pockets of calm. A few slow breaths, a mindful cup of tea, journaling, prayer, or simply sitting quietly for a few minutes can help your nervous system remember that this moment is different from the past.

✨ Nurture your spirit.
Reconnect with what brings meaning to your life. Trust that healing doesn't have to happen all at once. Every gentle step, every moment of choosing yourself with compassion, matters. You don't have to force your way forward. Growth often happens quietly, in its own time.

As August unfolds, may you find moments of peace, courage, and connection. May you honour where you are today, without judgment. And may you remember that healing begins where safety is found.

What is one small act of kindness you can offer yourself this month?