Lately, I’ve been thinking about what I let in and what I keep out.
Some things move through me easily—kindness, beauty, curiosity, laughter. But other things, like criticism or disappointment, feel sharp. They hit something deeper and leave a mark that lingers.
My capacity shifts daily, sometimes hourly. Some days, I can absorb joy, connection, and creativity with an open heart. Other days, even small things feel overwhelming. A certain tone, a fleeting glance, a message left on read—they either bounce off me harmlessly or break through in ways I can’t always explain or predict.
Of course, joy feels good and criticism hurts. That’s basic human experience. But understanding what I let in isn’t really about good versus bad. What’s essential is recognising how much I can hold at any given moment, and honouring that truth rather than pushing past it.
The road to understanding starts with a simple question I’m learning to ask myself each morning: “What does my capacity look like today?”
Pausing to truly answer this question feels sacred. Because once I know, I have a choice: I can honour my capacity with my actions throughout the day, protecting my energy and attention accordingly. Or I can ignore what I’ve discovered and spend the day in resistance to my own reality, forcing myself to hold more than I can carry.
I’m learning that letting everything in isn’t the same as being open. True openness requires discernment. Some things deserve to stay outside—not because they’re inherently bad, but because they’re not meant for me, or at least not meant for me right now.
Openness without boundaries isn’t strength. It’s self-abandonment disguised as virtue.
There’s a difference between closing yourself off from the world and choosing what gets to take up residence in your inner landscape. The former is fear. The latter is wisdom.
I’m still learning where that line lives, still discovering what deserves my energy and what doesn’t. But asking the question—honouring my capacity instead of overriding it—feels like the most compassionate thing I can do for myself.
My capacity is not a weakness to overcome. It’s information to honour.
