On Ink, A Nebulous World, and a Therapeutic Reset

Written By Helen Gifford

Summer Reflections and September Refinements

It has been a while since I enjoyed the luxury of a monthly wrap-up article. I realised recently that these posts serve me in much the same way journaling does, offering a space to reflect and consider my next steps. I always enjoy reading other writers’ wrap-ups, so I’m indulging in a Summer reflection. I hope this prompts a moment of reflection for your day too.

Things I Have Loved

The word nebulous — Do you ever have a moment where a word becomes a temporary favourite? Nebulous rolls beautifully off the tongue. It feels a little bit extra because it’s not an everyday word, yet it defines so much. A lot of the modern world isn’t tangible; it’s nebulous. As the darker nights creep in, I find myself moving away from the abstract and seeking comfort in real, tangible spaces.

nebulous (adj.): Vague, not clearly defined, or difficult to describe. - Collins Dictionary

Slow starts - I’ve taken to having breakfast at the table with the garden doors wide open: fresh air, the taste of coffee, and the chatter of birds. It completely alters the tone of my day; I tend to move at a gentler pace throughout. When I roll straight out of bed into work with no pause, I live the rest of the day without pauses. As September arrives and it gets chillier outside the quilt, I’m actively looking for ways to protect this helpful ritual.

A little intentional novelty - I try to avoid being enticed by unnecessary subscriptions, stepping back from consumerism where I can. However, my mobile provider offered a deal on a monthly food box, and I treated us for the summer months. Consider me converted! A monthly food surprise - what’s not to love? Trying fresh Sicilian lemonade, new spice mixes, and questionable mushroom coffee has brought genuine moments of family joy and unboxing fun, at least for a month or 2.

The new start - September has always felt like my true new year. Having spent years in education, first as a student, then as a practitioner supporting young people, the urge to buy a fresh pencil case hasn’t left me, even if the school gates are now far behind me. September naturally draws me into reflection and refinement: deciding where I want to direct my energy.

Protecting space for creative writing - One place I want to focus is writing. It brings me peace, productivity, and creativity. But because it isn’t my main job or an obligation, it easily slips to the bottom of my to-do list. Taking part in Beth Kempton’s summer writing challenge at the end of August was a gentle reminder of how much I love writing and why I need to protect time for it.

Here is some writing inspired by one of her daily prompts:

With ink on my fingers, I create

With no care for neatness,

nor being correct, polite or appropriate

only to make.

Out of the inky black come shapes evoking emotion.

Emotion that shifts with the viewer.

Even when the ink has dried

art continues to evolve

as the world moves around it,

a never-ending dance of ink and meaning.

What feels terrifying about putting pen to paper

actually becomes easy

when we realise judgment is only partly about the page,

yet always about the viewer.

My role as both a therapist and a writer is to work with words - whether written in ink or spoken in the therapy room. There is an elusive art to language that can be sometimes scary, but always interesting.

Seasons and Transitions

As humans, we are naturally drawn to growth and self-improvement; it’s an evolutionary trait for survival. However, we’ve been sold a capitalist lie that success is strictly defined by money, constant productivity, and image. Recently, I’ve been enjoying Bruce Feiler’s book Life is in the Transitions, which challenges the modern expectation of a linear life. Feiler highlights flexibility and narrative resilience as far more powerful tools for navigating life’s unpredictable rollercoasters than rigid self-optimisation.

This perspective feels timely as I consciously step away from digital noise toward art and genuine nourishment. My social media feeds tell me that as a woman in middle age, I should wear casual neutrals, use Botox, hold glasses of wine at balconies on scenic holidays, take endless supplements, and worry constantly about collagen and fibre intake. Apparently, I should be at the peak of my career while effortlessly hosting my 2.5 teens’ friends in curated cashmere loungewear.

This relentless, curated pressure isn’t just targeting us in midlife; it completely saturates the young people sitting in our therapy rooms, families and classrooms. They, too, are being sold a rigid timeline that demands perfection, performance, and aesthetic compliance before they’ve even had a chance to discover who they are.

I’m sure your algorithm serves up its own version of who you “should” be. But the beauty of a September reset is the chance to pause and ask: What do I actually care about?

Is it matching loungewear? No, I’ll take my old hoodie and comfy joggers. Is it tracking fibre? No, it’s enjoyment in the act of cooking and eating. And if investing in cashmere loungewear or overnight oats brings you genuine joy and self-care, absolutely bloody go for it (I love overnight oats)! The key is intentionality: What actually brings you contentment, space, and relief?

Reflections for Practitioners & Supervisees

If you are a practitioner, September is also a natural time to audit your practice. Have you logged those CPD hours? I am great at logging formal training courses, but notoriously poor at logging research and reading articles. Taking stock now helps shape how you want the rest of your learning year to unfold. I tend to jump around like a kid in a sweet shop when it comes to training, so curating my focus helps enormously.

With that in mind, to blend my love for writing and therapy, I’ve signed up for an upcoming online event, The Psychology of Poetry.

If you are taking stock of your own practice this month, here is a quick three-point audit to take to supervision or your reflective journal:

  • Nourishment check: What is one piece of non-traditional learning (art, literature, nature, a narrative challenge) that nourished your clinical brain this season?

  • Expectation check: Where are you holding rigid, linear expectations for your clients, or yourself, that could soften into ‘transitions’?

  • Curate vs. Accumulate: Which CPD hours on your list feel like a ‘sweet shop’ distraction, and which feel like genuine, grounding professional development? ...and have you logged them?!

Finding the Balance

Ultimately, it comes down to how we curate our external influences. Modern life and social media give us wonderful things: CPD opportunities, writing challenges, book recommendations, and fun food boxes. But they can just as easily overwhelm us with comparison, pressure, and unrealistic expectations - whether regarding our lifestyle, our parenting, or our clinical roles.

Finding the balance between input that informs us and input that drains us isn’t a one-time decision. It’s an ongoing practice of reflection and curation, filtering out and choosing what truly serves us as we shift seasons.

Over to you:

  • For everyone: What is bringing you genuine space, peace, or relief as the nights draw in? How will you protect it this season?

  • For practitioners and writers: What narrative, poetic, or creative writing resources have enriched your therapeutic work recently? Drop them in the comments below; I’d love to compile a list for us.

  • It’s lovely to share a few quiet moments with you today.

    Until next time,

    💛🌿 Helen

Helen Gifford
Next

Cards in the Therapy Room