Wellbeing Wednesday: Holding Space

Welcome back to Wellbeing Wednesday. This week has been a difficult one for many people in our local town and my words come a little slower and the usual talk of productivity or self-improvement feels out of place.

Today, wellbeing isn’t about “fixing” how we feel. It’s about how we carry it together, how we hold space for each other.

1. Acknowledging the “Collective Nervous System”

In a close-knit community, our nervous systems are “co-regulated.” We pick up on each other’s signals. Following traumatic events a whole town’s collective nervous system can shift into “High Alert” (Fight/Flight) or “Shutdown” (Numbness).

The Wellbeing Truth: If you feel exhausted, jumpy, or strangely “empty” right now, you aren’t failing at coping. You are responding to the atmosphere around you.
The Practice: Give yourself permission to not be “back to normal”, hold space for yourself to process and regulate. Recovery often happens in circles, not a straight line.

2. The Power of “Low-Demand” Connection

The pressure to “talk it out” following traumatic events can be overwhelming. But sometimes, words are too heavy.

The Practice: Seek out “low-demand” connection. This means being near others without the pressure to perform or explain. Standing together on the school run, sitting in an assembly hall, or just nodding to a neighbour or friend.
Music’s Role: Music can often hold the space that words cannot. Listening to a community choir, a slow hymn, or even just a grounding instrumental track can help process an “unspoken” grief.

3. Creating “Micro-Sanctuaries” of Safety

When we feel unsafe or our community is unrecognisable, it can be helpful to shrink our world down to what we can control.

The Practice: Focus on the “Small and Certain.” The rhythm of the kettle boiling. The weight of a heavy blanket. The familiar smell of a candle.
The Hum: As I’ve discussed before, humming is a biological reset. In times of trauma, low-frequency humming can help soothe the “buzzing” feeling of anxiety in your chest. It is a tiny, private way to tell your body: “In this breath, in this second, I am here.”