Somatic Practice For Anyone Who Feels Worn Out Before the Holidays Even Start

This year stretched people in ways they didn’t expect. Maybe it stretched you too. Some seasons make you feel like you’re walking through fog, trying to move forward even when the air feels heavy. Then the holidays show up. Suddenly, you’re fielding invitations, questions, opinions, and the pressure to show up like you have more energy than you do. Feeling worn out before the season even begins isn’t unusual. Many people carry that same weight.

If any of this feels familiar, that makes sense. Many people enter the holidays already holding more than they realize. Stress settles into your body long before your mind finds language for it. You take shorter inhales. Your shoulders lift without permission. Your jaw tightens before you even register tension. These cues don’t mean something is wrong with you. They indicate that your system needs space and has been trying to communicate with you in the only ways it can.

Holidays often bring up old patterns. You slip into roles you used to play. People expect the old version of you, even if it no longer fits. Maybe you want connection but feel an urge to retreat. Maybe you hope for warmth but feel drained before you pull into the driveway. Maybe you sense how much you’ve grown this year and feel unsure about how to stay aligned with that growth in meetings where people still treat you as if nothing has changed.

Somatic awareness becomes incredibly useful here — not in a polished or idealized way, but in a very human one. Somatic work doesn’t ask you to force calm or rise above everything. It invites you to notice how your body responds when life gets complicated and actually to use that information.

I practice somatic and mindfulness-based work in Virginia and partner with Healing Arts Center in Virginia Beach. Clients often tell me they want tools that meet them where they are. They don’t want to perform wellness or pretend to feel okay. They want ways to stay connected to themselves when the season starts pulling at loose threads.

I won’t offer a formula for surviving the holidays. Life doesn’t follow formulas. But I can offer practices that help you create a little more room inside yourself — enough to breathe, pause, and choose.

Start with your capacity. Not the capacity you wish you had — the capacity you actually have right now. When you slow down and ask what feels manageable this year, the answer often surprises you. Maybe you only want to attend one gathering. Maybe you plan to stay for an hour instead of the entire evening. Maybe you want fewer obligations or a quieter season altogether.

Choosing what you can realistically manage doesn’t make it difficult. It shows honesty. Some people may react when you stop stretching yourself for them. Their reaction belongs to them. People might need time to adjust to your boundaries, but their discomfort doesn’t require you to abandon them.

As you move through the season, pay attention to who you become around different people. Your body often recognizes this before your mind catches up. Some people help you breathe more fully or bring out parts of you that feel grounded, curious, or playful. Others make your shoulders tighten before they even speak. None of this is random. It’s valuable information. You don’t need to exile anyone, but you also don’t have to ignore what your body knows. Lean toward interactions that support you, and give yourself space from those that don’t.

Now, about the basics — the things people brush aside because they sound too simple. Eating real meals. Drinking water. Sleeping in a way that helps your body reset. Stepping outside when your mind feels crowded. These acts anchor you when everything else feels loud. They keep you connected to your body instead of letting stress scatter you.

Even when you care for yourself, stress can still hit suddenly. A comment lands harder than you expect. A tone brings up something old. A room becomes too loud too fast. Your body reacts before you have time to think.

When moments like that come up, I often teach clients a practice called orienting. You don’t need quiet or privacy to use it. You need a brief moment where you remember you can pause.

Start by noticing your feet. Don’t fix your posture or force grounding. Feel the contact — your shoes on carpet, boots on tile, socks on a cold floor. This helps your body recognize the moment you’re actually in.

Then let your eyes move through the space around you. Don’t scan for danger. Just look. Shapes, shadows, light, and the way something curves or reflects. This helps your system shift from old patterns into the present moment.

When something neutral or slightly pleasant catches your attention, let your eyes rest there. A plant. A decoration. A bit of light. You’re giving your system a moment that doesn’t ask anything from you. Sometimes your breath deepens. Sometimes your shoulders loosen. Sometimes nothing obvious happens. All of it is okay.

If it helps, place a hand on your belly and take a slow inhale—not forced, just steady. Let the exhale drift out on its own. You can place a hand on your chest as well if that feels comforting. The point isn’t to achieve a state. The fact is to give your body a way back to itself.

Orienting won’t erase the complexity of the holidays. But it gives you access to yourself when the moment feels chaotic or too familiar.

This, honestly, might be the real work of the season: letting your experience reflect who you are now, not who you used to be. You don’t have to carry roles you’ve outgrown. You don’t have to repeat scripts that never fit. You don’t have to shape your life around expectations that drain you. You get to decide again. You get to choose something smaller, calmer, or entirely different.

I see this every day at Healing Arts Center in Virginia Beach. People walk in convinced they’ve failed because they can’t hold everything. Over time, they learn they’re not failing — they’re noticing. They’re listening. They’re becoming more honest with themselves. That honesty helps them build a holiday season that feels human rather than exhausting.

If this season feels heavy, it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. It means you’ve been carrying a lot — maybe more than anyone realizes. You get to rest. You get to say no. You get to hold boundaries even when others misunderstand them. You can build a holiday that doesn’t compromise your well-being.

If you want somatic support in Virginia or a space to understand what your body has been trying to tell you, you can learn more about my work here:

Healing Arts Center: https://www.healingartsvb.com
Book a Session: https://www.vagaro.com/healingartscenter

You don’t have to move through this season alone. Sometimes one honest conversation shifts the entire direction.