Living by the Clock: Reconnecting With Your Natural Rhythm

Recently, I realised I had been caught up in a pace of life that was no longer serving me. I felt exhausted, disconnected from myself, and my mood had begun to suffer. Yet despite recognising this, I noticed a lingering sense of guilt whenever I considered slowing down or making more space for my own needs.

I know I'm not alone in this. Time and again, I hear friends lament how little time they have for the things that truly nourish them—the activities that restore their energy, bring them joy, and help them feel grounded. I see the same pattern even more clearly in the clients I work with who are living with chronic symptoms.

Many people with chronic symptoms share similar underlying traits. From an early age, they learned that their value was tied to what they achieved, how much they contributed, or how well they met the needs of others. As a result, they often become high achievers, perfectionists, and people-pleasers, habitually placing their own needs at the bottom of the list. Over time, they become skilled at overriding the signals their bodies send them—even when those signals are asking for rest, recovery, or a gentler pace.

When life runs to someone else's timetable

On top of this, we are taught - almost from birth - to live according to external schedules. Babies are expected to arrive on time. If labour doesn't progress according to expectation, intervention is often considered. Children begin school at a set age and follow fixed timetables. Later, we're expected to fit into standard working hours, often regardless of whether those hours suit our natural energy levels.

We eat at set times. We sleep at set times. We wake to alarm clocks so we can continue keeping pace with the demands of the day.

Of course, some level of structure is necessary. Society couldn't function if every school, workplace, and service operated entirely around individual preferences. I understand that.

Yet I've always struggled with the assumption that one schedule should suit everyone.

As a child, my mum had a battle on her hands every morning trying to get me out of bed for school. I can still remember her shouting, "Are you getting up?" from her bedroom, and me enthusiastically shouting back, "YES!" from the comfort of my duvet.

The more I reflect on it, the more I realise that the challenge isn't simply the schedules themselves. It's what happens when we internalise them.

Over time, many of us absorb the message that productivity matters more than rest, achievement matters more than wellbeing, and pushing through is something to be admired. We become so accustomed to overriding our needs that we stop noticing we're doing it.

And when our bodies ask us to slow down, we often respond with criticism rather than curiosity.

Life wasn't always organised in this way.

While life in earlier times was by no means easier, people were often more connected to natural cycles of light and darkness, activity and rest, seasonality and recovery. Daily life was shaped more by the rhythms of nature than by the clock on the wall.

Our bodies still operate according to those rhythms. We have natural cycles that influence our energy, sleep, appetite, mood, and capacity. Yet modern life often asks us to perform with the same intensity every day, regardless of what our bodies are telling us.

Perhaps that's why so many people feel exhausted, disconnected, or stuck in a constant cycle of pushing through.

The real cost isn't simply that we live by schedules. It's that many of us have lost trust in our own internal signals. We've learned to look outside ourselves for instructions about when to work, when to rest, what we should achieve, and how productive we ought to be.

At some point, though, the body starts asking to be heard. And sooner or later, we have to decide whether we're willing to listen.

At some point, we have to wake up to our own needs.

And so I’m learning to pause, to question these expectations, and to find a gentler way of achieving - and living. Over recent months, I've felt a strong pull to turn inward: to nurture myself, to slow down, and to really listen to my emotions and what my body needs. And honestly? It’s been hard.

Because that old programming is still there.

The voice that says: you should be doing more… seeing more clients… earning more… achieving more every day.

It asks: Shouldn’t you work 9 to 5 like everyone else? Why are there still a hundred things on your work to-do list? What have you even achieved today? Why have you got up so late?

But now, I’m starting to question that voice.

Why do I need to do any of that? Hang on - I’m meant to be my own boss?

What do I tell my own clients? I say it’s important to be compassionate with yourself. Your body holds wisdom, and listening matters. So I started listening to the advice I give others.

I recognised that pushy, critical voice - and where it has led me before: to overwork, to ignoring pain, to pushing through when I needed rest. It has led to repetitive strain injury, neck and back pain, overwhelm, fatigue, anxiety, and burnout.

Our bodies are wise. If we don't listen to their whispers, they often find ways to speak more loudly. This is what I see every day with my clients.

The more we listen, the more we tune in, the better we become at understanding what we truly need. And from there, we can respond wisely.

We can begin to find our own natural rhythm.

A rhythm that tells us when it’s time to work, to rest, to sleep, to eat. When it’s time to cry, to connect, to nurture ourselves, to exercise… or even to scream.

And we’re all different. We can’t live by someone else’s rhythm.

I’m an introvert, so I know I need time alone most days - especially after socialising. I need around eight hours of sleep. I don’t always need breakfast. I eat lunch when my body tells me it’s time. It takes my mind a while to wind down at night. My husband gets by on less sleep, can nap during the day, and still fall asleep within minutes at night (damn him!).

Of course, living this way in the modern world isn’t always easy.

I’m lucky - I can organise much of my behind-the-scenes work to suit my own rhythm. But I still need to be there for my clients at set times. I like to eat dinner with my family, so that’s one anchor in the day.

And my cats… well, they expect to be fed exactly on time. (Although, to be fair, one of them would happily eat constantly.)

Maybe it’s not about rejecting structure entirely, but about softening it - allowing space for our natural rhythms within it.

There are small, gentle ways we can begin to reconnect.

Start listening to your body. Listen for when you’re tired. Notice what drains you - and what gives you energy. Pay attention to your emotions; they’re often pointing you towards what you need or what’s missing.

Take a little time each day to check in with yourself. Even just sitting quietly and noticing how you feel can be enough.

For me, journalling has been a big part of this. It’s how I realised something wasn’t quite right. I noticed a sense of guilt about not doing enough. Instead of pushing it away, I turned towards it. I wrote from that voice that was always telling me to get on with things… and then I noticed another part underneath it - a tired, worn-down part, quietly asking to be heard.

Somewhere in that, I’ve started to find a middle ground.

A way to still move forward and accomplish things - but more slowly, more gently. A way that honours the part of me that needs space, rest, and time to feel.

I trust that I’ll know when I’m ready to pick up the pace again. It won’t come from pressure - it will come as a natural surge of energy.

But for now, I’m learning to honour a slower rhythm.

And maybe that’s where it begins - for all of us.

MH Wellbeing, Maria Hancock MSc GQHP

Specialist in Anxiety, Stress and Chronic Symptoms

Trauma-Informed Somatic Therapist, Hypnotherapist, Mindfulness Teacher, SIRPA Pain Recovery Practitioner

Local areas: Horley, Reigate, Redhill in Surrey and Crawley, Horsham, Copthorne in West Sussex. English Speaking Online Therapy.