Rambling Flower

The first time I heard someone mention “flow” as a way of living, I was sitting in a work meeting.

Back then, I worked as a social media manager for WellMiss, a digital clinic focused on trauma-informed care. Most of my colleagues were in the well-being and healing space. Psychiatrists, trauma-informed practitioners, yoga therapists, and naturopathic doctors. Women with genuine depth and experience when it came to trauma and healing work.

I didn’t have that kind of background. So every time I joined a meeting or a discussion, I made sure I was paying attention. Not just because it would shape the social media content I was doing, but also because I wanted to learn.

And honestly, it was such a privilege to be part of that space. To be surrounded by women who just felt more grounded, more aware, more in tune with themselves and life.

At some point during the meeting, we had a check-in. Just a simple “how are you” round.

One of my colleagues said something like, “I’m just flowing through life right now… embracing the ebbs and flows.”

I stopped for a second. I mean, I’d heard “flow” all my life. But the way she said it sounded so normal, like a real way of existing. Part of me was confused, but I was also drawn in.

I’ve always been a control freak. That’s how I survived that time. So the idea of surrendering, of letting go, sounded terrifying.

I couldn’t relate to the concept of “flowing through life”, but I didn’t dismiss it. In fact, I wanted to know more about it.

So, right after that meeting, I went straight to Google. What does it mean to flow through life? How do you do it?

And boy, I got lost almost immediately.

I don’t even remember exactly what I read. It was a swirl of phrases like “let go,” “surrender,” “stop forcing things,” “trust the process.” The kind of life advice that sounds lovely on paper, but not doable in real life. I think at one point, I laughed and told myself, “Let go? Trust the process? Does the process even know I trust it?”

I need routine, discipline, structure, and a clear plan, with Plan B to Z as backups. None of this “flow” stuff made sense to me. It felt like I was being told to ditch the only things holding my life together.

Questions started piling up in my head. How do I “flow”? Am I supposed to drop all my routines? Just wake up and vibe my way through the day?

These thoughts stayed with me for days. I couldn’t let it go, and I also felt stupid because I couldn’t seem to understand it. My brain was itching. It seemed I was missing something… something important.

Then, out of nowhere one day, this thought hit me:

Wait… the sea can flow because there’s an ocean floor underneath it, right?

That sudden realization changed everything.

I got so hyper-focused on the idea of “flow” that I didn’t even bother to zoom out to see the whole picture. The sea can move because it’s held by the ocean floor beneath it, by the coastlines that shape where it can go, and by gravity that keeps it from drifting into nothing.

I had it wrong. Routines and structure don’t block my flow. They make it possible.

I thought flowing meant letting go of everything that holds and grounds me, but it doesn’t. I didn’t have to completely abandon them. I just had to loosen my grip.

I started to see how rigid I’d been. For example, if I slept through my alarm and missed my workout, I’d get mad at myself all day. Or when plans change, I’d stress out instead of adjusting.

Now, flowing for me is moving through life with a little more softness and self-compassion. Not beating myself up every time things don’t go as planned. Letting go of what’s out of my control and focusing on what I can: my mindset, my values, and how I choose to respond.

Giving myself grace when I can’t show up perfectly.

To allow flexibility when my body needs rest.

To not be so hard on myself when plans don’t go the way I expected.

I know I’m not perfect at this. I still catch myself resisting it. But I’m noticing it more, and I think having this level of awareness is already a good start.