There is a particular kind of tired that comes from caring for someone you love. It does not lift with a good night’s sleep, and it is difficult to explain to people who have not lived it.
On August 5, we set aside a morning for exactly that kind of tired.
Eight caregivers joined us outdoors in a quiet garden. The location was chosen on purpose — somewhere people could arrive, breathe, and settle into themselves without rush or pressure. No waiting room. No appointment to hurry off to. Just a space that asked nothing of anyone for a couple of hours.
Each person arrived carrying their own story, their own responsibilities, and their own hope for a little more ease in the role they hold. The garden became a place where they could reflect without judgment and reconnect with parts of themselves that often get pushed aside.
Looking at what’s full and what’s running low
We began with something called a capacity map. It sounds more clinical than it is — really it is just a way of looking honestly at four parts of yourself: your body, your emotions, your mental load, and your sense of meaning and grounding.
Participants took time with each one, noticing what felt full, what felt depleted, and what had been quietly asking for attention for a while. What surprised several people was how much relief came from simply naming it. When you can point at the specific thing that is empty, it stops being a general sense that you are failing and becomes something you can actually do something about.
Small things that help
We then talked through ways to refill each area. Nothing dramatic — no one left with a plan requiring an hour a day they do not have. These were small, practical supports that fit into real life, including the days when everything runs late and nothing goes as planned.
We also talked about boundaries. Not hard lines drawn between you and the person you are caring for, but gentler practices that help you stay steady and connected without disappearing into the role. The conversation was honest and grounded in the situations caregivers actually face.
Going home with something in hand
As we closed, people said again and again that they felt validated — reminded that they are doing the best they can, often in circumstances that would test anyone. They left with a few new ways to care for themselves and a renewed sense of their own capacity.
Everyone went home with two small gifts:
- A notebook and colourful pens — something to write in, draw in, or simply use to bring a bit of play and creativity back into their days.
- A fridge saying — a simple reminder of how fabulous they are and how much heart they bring to their role, somewhere they will see it every day.
The next one
We will be holding more of these gatherings. If this sounds like something you need, or if you know a caregiver who has not had a morning to themselves in longer than they can remember, we would love to see you at the next one.
Caregivers deserve spaces like this: intentional, supportive, and made with care.