When the Light Feels Far Away: Tending to Low Mood with Care

As fall settles in, many feel a quiet shift inside. The shorter days, cooler weather, and changes in rhythm can bring fluctuations in mood, energy, and motivation. This is a natural cycle, but can still feel heavy.

Low mood is not a personal failure. It’s not proof that you are doing something wrong. It’s your body and story asking you to slow down and tend to yourself with gentleness.

Photo: Shutterstock

Meeting Yourself with Curiosity and Compassion

In narrative therapy, we pay attention to the words we use. When we label our experiences with shame, such as “I’m lazy” or “I should be stronger,” the weight deepens. When we approach emotions with curiosity, asking “What do I feel right now?” we soften their grip and open space for connection.

Lending a different perspective, a low mood isn’t always something to fix or push through. It can be a signal that it’s time to rest, especially after periods of hypervigilance. It may be the body’s quiet call to shift from doing to simply being. Sometimes, it’s not about doing more, but about choosing quality over quantity, slower moments, deeper presence, and intentional care. What if we renamed a low mood as a season of refueling or even rejoicing in solitude? It reframes the experience not as a deficit, but as a necessary return to self.

The Power of Pause

In my past article, The Power of Pause: How Somatic Awareness Reduces Stress and Anxiety, I shared how stress and sadness are not only thoughts but live in the body first. Tight shoulders, shallow breathing, or a heavy chest are signals, not weaknesses.

Somatic awareness is the practice of tuning into these sensations. It helps us return to the body’s natural intelligence. A hand over your heart, a few deep breaths, or a simple body scan can calm the nervous system and shift you out of fight-or-flight. Stillness may feel unfamiliar, but it is often where we hear ourselves most clearly.

The Kind of Play That Heals

In another piece, Feeling Stuck? Try Play, I described play as more than distraction. True play softens defenses, awakens curiosity, and invites us back into presence. Sometimes that looks like laughter that shakes loose tension. Other times, it’s quiet flow: doodling, moving to music, or losing track of time in an alive conversation.

Therapeutically, play opens space for emotional freedom. It helps us release what we hold inside, tell our stories differently, and reconnect with the wisdom of the body. It also strengthens trust and belonging when shared with others.

When Play Feels Hard

It’s natural to feel resistance to play, especially if you have been taught it is unproductive or unsafe. Start small. Laugh at a mistake instead of criticizing yourself. Color or journal without worrying about the result. Invite a trusted friend into a moment of lightness. Notice how your body responds, how shoulders drop, breath deepens, or energy shifts.

Healing in Shadow and Light

Healing is not about pushing sadness away. It’s about making space for both shadow and light to coexist. The pause teaches us to listen inward. Play teaches us to loosen our grip and invite joy back in. Together, they remind us that resilience grows not from avoiding hardship, but from caring for ourselves within it.

A Compassion Toolkit for Low Mood

• Pause and scan

  Take one minute to notice where your body feels tight or heavy. Name it gently.

  
  

• Anchor your breath

  Place a hand on your chest or belly and follow the rhythm of your breathing.

  
  

• Move slowly

  Stretch your arms, roll your shoulders, or take a short walk.

  
  

• Invite play

  Doodle, sway to music, or share a lighthearted story.

  
  

• Seek connection

  Call or text someone you trust, even briefly.

  
  

• Rest deeply

  Give yourself permission to nap, pause, or sit quietly with a blanket.