Daily Non-Negotiables: The Small Things That Pulled Me Back to the Light

Sharing my stories with you is part of my healing. 

And this one is especially close to my heart.

A while back, I wrote about the day I finally opened the curtains, the first small act that reminded me what light felt like.

This story picks up where that one left off. What came next. How I learned to keep showing up, even on the days the light felt far away.

I’ve gone through dark seasons before, but nothing like the one that came at the start of COVID. The world got quiet, but not the peaceful kind. The quiet that buzzes in your ears, that presses on your chest, that makes getting out of bed feel impossible.

Some mornings I couldn’t even open the blinds. I’d lie there for hours, watching the light move across the room, waiting for the heaviness to lift.

My body ached.

My heart ached.

I wasn’t myself anymore, and I didn’t know how to find her again.

My health coaches were the ones who planted the first seed. They talked about daily non-negotiables — small promises you make to yourself every day, even when you don’t want to. At first, I thought it sounded silly. But I was desperate for something, anything, that could help me find my footing.

So I wrote a list and taped it to the mirror in our bedroom. 

Eat 

Brush my teeth 

Bathe 

Any mindfulness practice 

Get the f#*k outside

Getting outside didn’t mean a forest walk or ocean swim — not yet. It started with opening the blinds. That was all I could manage. A few days later, I opened the window too, just to feel the air. Eventually, I made it downstairs and stood at the patio door. Then, one morning, I opened it. I stepped out for just a few seconds, and that small act made me cry.

Each of those moments mattered more than I could have known. They weren’t grand gestures; they were tiny sparks of life returning.

Over time, those five things became anchors. I didn’t always do them perfectly, but I showed up for them. They helped me remember that I still had a choice, even on the days I felt lost. They were the steps that led me back to myself.

As the months passed, those small promises became more than survival tools. They turned into touchstones I could come back to again and again.

My list has changed over the years (some things have stayed, others have evolved) but the heart of it hasn’t. Daily non-negotiables are still how I stay connected to myself. They remind me that showing up for my life doesn’t always mean doing more. Sometimes it means doing the right few things with intention.

These days my non-negotiables look a little different. Morning movement. Sitting in stillness before screens. Drinking water before coffee. Touching the earth, even if it’s just stepping outside barefoot. They shift with the seasons, but the purpose stays the same — to root me back into presence, into gratitude, into my life.

It’s been five years now, and that same crinkled list still hangs on my mirror.

The ink has faded, but it stays there as a reminder of the woman who kept trying when it would’ve been easier to stop.

 

Life feels softer these days. There’s laughter again, and movement, and peace. But I still have moments where I go small, when I withdraw, when the world feels like too much.

The difference is, I know what to do now. I open the blinds. I breathe. I start again.

If you’re in that space right now (the small, dark one) please know you’re not alone. You don’t need to have it all figured out. Just start with one thing.

Maybe it’s opening the curtains. 

Maybe it’s drinking a glass of water before anything else. 

Maybe it’s standing outside for thirty seconds. 

Start with one thing. Do it every day. Then add another when you can. These small things add up. They’ll slowly carry you back to yourself.

And when you’re ready for more gentle tools and practices to support your own healing, that’s what we share together inside the Inner Peace Club — your toolbox in your pocket. It’s a cozy app filled with rituals, meditations, and moments of peace you can reach for anytime, anywhere. A soft space to return to when you need guidance, grounding, or a little reminder that you’re not alone.

I’ve left a light on for you. 

Shannan