Your Health Is a Wheel
I like to think of whole health like the wheel of a bike. You are the hub: your center, your purpose, the why that holds everything together. Reaching out from that hub are the spokes: movement, nutrition, rest, connection, environment, spirit, intention. Each one carries part of the load.
When every spoke is connected and holding its share, the wheel rolls smoothly. When one comes loose, the wheel starts to wobble. You can still ride. You just feel every bump a little more.
The Coach Has a Wobble, Too
I teach whole health. And sometimes, I struggle with it, too.
I can show up to coach, make a homemade meal, move my body, and still feel a little disconnected from myself. No one has this all figured out. I am far from perfect.
But I have learned a few things about caring for ourselves with compassion. Functional movement helps us trust our bodies. A homemade meal can be an act of nourishment and respect. Connection reminds us we don’t have to carry everything alone. Those spokes, I tend to pretty faithfully.
The Spoke That Came Loose
What I didn’t realize until this trip south to visit my parents and my sister, Carrie, was that one of my spokes had come loose from the hub.
For me, it was internal rest.
I was sleeping. But inside, it was still all systems go. Thinking, planning, coaching, worrying, figuring out the next thing. My body could be sitting still while my mind kept right on pedaling.
And somewhere in all that doing, I’d stopped making intentional time to reflect. To ask how I was feeling. To remember what mattered to me and stay rooted in my purpose—the hub that’s supposed to hold it all together.
It’s hard to hear your own voice when you’re always rolling on to the next thing.
Permission to Be Cared For
Carrie gave me gifts I have a hard time giving myself: quiet space, alone time, farm time. Permission to stay put. To be cared for. To have a little time without needing to make it productive.
On Saturday, we went to a 90-minute yoga chakra class together. I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I came out feeling relaxed, centered, and more connected to myself.
I let someone else guide me. I had space to notice what needed my attention and what I could let go of.
I gave myself permission to need something, too.
That feels vulnerable to admit as a coach. But being able to help other people keep their wheels rolling doesn’t mean I always notice the wobble in my own.
Finding My Spark Again
In that quiet, I started asking:
What’s been draining me? What feels meaningful? What do I want to make room for?
I could feel a little curiosity returning. A little more hope and interest in what’s ahead.
My spark.
How to True Your Wheel
Here’s something bike mechanics know: when a wheel wobbles, you don’t throw it out and build a new one. You true it. You find the loose spoke and give it a small turn. Then another. A little at a time, until the wheel spins straight again.
That’s whole health, too: noticing where we need care and respecting ourselves enough to respond.
Sometimes truing your wheel starts with the simplest thing. Moving in a way that feels good. Making yourself a meal. Calling someone who knows you well. Giving yourself ten quiet minutes to reflect—and listening to what comes up.
For me, lately, it means reconnecting the rest spoke to my hub: making room to remember why I do this work and what I want for my own life, too.
Which Spoke Needs Care?
Which spoke in your wheel needs a little care right now?
We can keep learning how to care for ourselves while we help others. I’m still learning, right alongside you.
And this week, a little quiet, a little connection, and permission to receive care helped me true my wheel and find my way back to my spark.
Keep stoking your spark.
It matters to your whole health.
You matter. -Jenny
