(Far From) Average April
It’s all about the sleep. Sleep is the driver of well-being. Wellness for wellness’ sake. "Tip jar" thoughts.
I’m thinking about doing a livestream right here on Substack - soon. The breaking news I have to share is about YOU. Will giving your fragmented attention to yourself be enough reason to pause for a few minutes?
I want to (continue to) plant a flag in the sand that says things like: sleep better, guard your sleep, prioritize your sleep, slow down, rest more. To be clear, I am NOT promoting slothfulness. I am promoting wellness.
It’s true: when you are well—physically, mentally, and spiritually—you are more likely to make better decisions and, yes, get more done. But getting more done is not the point.
What if it’s okay to say: let’s be well for wellness’ sake?
In my own reading and experience, I came across Scott Young, who said, “Despite recent attention, sleep remains underrated as a driver of good health, positive mood, productive energy, and all-around well-being.”
Exactly. Sleep is the driver of well-being.
Pause for a moment and ask yourself:
• If I had more or better sleep, would my mood improve?
• Would my body feel less pain?
• If I slept longer, could I get more quality work done? Be more creative?
I could link you to studies that say yes to all of the above. But do you really need a study when common sense—and your own body—has been telling you for some time that your sleep needs to be a priority?
And don’t try to sell me that BS about catching up on the weekend. Sorry to say your body doesn’t work like that.
Your body is talking to you. All. The. Time.
But we’ve either stopped listening, can’t hear (as in, we miss the signals), feel disconnected from our bodies (for a myriad of reasons), or ignore the messages because it’s inconvenient to “take the call.” A teacher of mine, Susi Hately, often says, “Listen to the whispers of the body, so it doesn’t have to scream.”
To help with learning to recognize the signals, I’m offering a Noticing Log—a simple tool to help you tune in and listen to your body. Think of it as a jumpstart or a gentle nudge to remember what paying attention looks like in daily life. It’s not hard. It just requires slowing down, pausing, and asking yourself:
What do I notice about my body right now? What does it need in this moment?
Every time you ask, the answer might change. But over time, patterns emerge—patterns shaped by our habits, both life-giving and destructive.
Here’s a short practice to help you prepare your mind and body for rest:
If you want to dive deeper into sleep, I highly recommend Matthew Walker’s book Why We Sleep and his TED Talk on sleep as a superpower.
Shifting Gears (Sort Of)
If you follow the Christian liturgical calendar, you will know that we are now in the season of Easter. The prior 40 day run up to Easter was called Lent.
I haven’t always been a big fan of Lent. For a long time, it felt like a season of giving up things. But now, I have a more nuanced understanding. This year, Lent felt more like an invitation to be fully present to pain and suffering—both my own and that of others. The practice of lament felt especially right.
Lament is a passionate expression of grief, sorrow, or regret, often directed toward God in times of suffering, loss, or injustice. In the Old Testament, lament serves as a spiritual practice that allows individuals and communities to bring their pain before God, seeking understanding, comfort, or intervention. These laments can be personal or communal and frequently include complaints, petitions, expressions of trust, and ultimately, hope in God’s faithfulness.
Would you like to try writing your own lament?
I know, I know. It’s like asking if you’d like me to schedule a root canal for you. But here’s why it might be worth it:
Lament as a spiritual practice today can be a powerful way to express grief, seek justice, and draw closer to God in times of suffering. It can be both personal and communal, integrating elements of biblical lament with practices like prayer, journaling, and movement.
Here’s a prompt to get you started:
Writing or Praying a Personal Lament
The basic framework includes:
Addressing God – Acknowledging God’s presence (e.g., “O Lord, my refuge…”).
Complaint – Honestly naming the pain, injustice, or suffering (e.g., “Why do I feel abandoned?”).
Petition – Asking for God’s help, intervention, or comfort (e.g., “Come near to me, O God.”).
Expression of Trust or Praise – Ending with a statement of hope, even if faint (e.g., “Yet I will trust in your unfailing love.”).”
These ideas can also serve as a writing prompt to journal with; an excellent way to process one’s grieve.
Spoiler alert: One of my future book projects (when I need a break from the one I’m currently finishing) is tentatively titled Grief Liturgies: Prayers, Poems, and Practices for the Journey Through Loss.
Grief is something we all experience in some form, and lament is a legitimate—often overlooked—expression of that loss.
In fact, the final chapter of How to Die Well: A Workbook for the Living is devoted to grief and mourning. It includes a section on lament, because naming our pain and giving voice to our sorrow is not only human—it’s holy.
Reader Feedback
Writing is a solitary practice, so hearing from you means the world to me.
Recently, a reader from Northern Ireland reached out, wondering how to get a hard copy of the Trauma-Informed Yoga Card Deck. She told me that Trauma-Informed Yoga: A Toolbox for Therapists had changed her life. That kind of message makes my day. (Turns out, Amazon Belgium ships to Northern Ireland, in case anyone else needs to know!)
Why This Newsletter Is Still Free
People have asked why I don’t “turn on” the paywall.
When I started this newsletter in 2022, I set a goal: 2,000 subscribers before considering a paid option. Right now, we’re at just over 1,000. And many of you not only subscribe—you actually open and read these emails. I’m deeply grateful.
I’ve thought a lot about adding a paid tier, which would mean offering some content exclusively for paid subscribers. Some writers do this for all their work, but that’s not me. At least not yet.
What I’m considering is the digital equivalent of a “tip jar”—a “buy me a coffee” option where readers can make a one-time gift if they feel led. The content will stay the same: a monthly newsletter about the struggle to be well—and how to be well—through the lens of yoga, theology, and spirituality.
Adding a “tip jar” is my way of dipping a toe into the waters of making a sustainable living from my writing. That journey is glacially slow, and actual income often takes years to materialize. This isn’t a complaint—just a reality for those of us whose primary work is writing. It’s also why even successful writers (and yes, I do consider myself a successful writer) often have multiple side gigs or day jobs to help pay the mortgage.
That said, I’m frugal by nature and don’t need much to feel well and do my work.
Would you take a moment to fill out this short five-question survey? Your input will help shape future content.
Final Thoughts
Spring is still springing here in Pittsburgh. Some of the trees are exploding into wild green again. (I know—the pollen can be brutal.) But the green revives my soul.
You?
Ways to Connect With Me
I’m now offering a few one-on-one sessions in yoga therapy or spiritual direction. If you feel drawn to this kind of support, I’d love to hear from you. You can reach out to me at joyogi5@gmail.com to explore availability—please note, space is quite limited.
In these sessions, we’ll work together to explore your spiritual journey, cultivate embodied awareness, and navigate life’s challenges with compassion and clarity.
If you would enjoy an on-demand video course Pray With Your Whole Body is available here.
If you have enjoyed some my books, please consider leaving a short review (1-3 sentences) here or here. It really helps.
As always, thanks for reading this far.
Keep moving and breathing and finding moments that you are grateful for.
Until next month –
Be well!
With love,
Joanne
P.S. I had intended to send this newsletter out a week ago, especially given that I’ve been reflecting on the practice of lament. Still, I’m reminded that lament can be practiced in any season—grief is no respecter of time or calendars.
Sleep! The very thing that has been eluding me for months and months. Thank you for this.