I went for a walk this morning. No phone, no podcast, just morning light and my own thoughts — which is exactly the kind of thing I tell my clients to do.
And somewhere around minute ten, I started laughing at myself.
Because yesterday I shared Light, Food Then Coffee here on Substack. And within an hour, two health coach friends had messaged me some version of “I know, I know.” Not defensive. Not guilty. Just... busted. In on the joke.
That’s when it hit me. We talk about circadian rhythm, mitochondrial health, nervous system regulation, grounding, all of it. And most of us are also human beings running businesses, raising kids, and drinking coffee at 6am in the dark like everyone else.
So here’s my honest list. If you’re a practitioner, coach, or just someone who’s read enough wellness content to feel a low hum of guilt at all times, this one’s for you.
I never started drinking coffee, so I’ve never had to quit it. That one’s an accident of biography more than discipline. But I also don’t judge my friends who love their coffee. I was completely addicted to diet coke for a couple of decades. I understand the caffeine pull. Thankfully, that’s done for me.
I’m pretty religious about morning light, food, and movement. That part of the rhythm, I protect. It’s non-negotiable for me at this point, and it’s where I feel the biggest difference in how my day goes.
Evening light is where I get loose. I have absolutely kept working after sunset when a deadline needed it. Sometimes I’ve sat on my computer or phone before sunrise too, if something early was pulling at me. I do wear my blue blockers, always. But “strict” is not the word for my device use.
I occasionally sleep 10-15 minutes into sunrise. I know, gasp! The sun does not wait for me, and some mornings, neither does my body. It’s rare, but it does happen.
I eat potato chips. Often. I don’t do sugar, but I will absolutely enjoy a Boulder Canyon avocado oil or olive oil chip without a second thought. Nutrition purity was never the goal. A body that feels good and a life that feels good, together, was always the intention.
I’m opinionated about artificial ingredients, especially sweeteners. I have real convictions there, and I’ll teach them clearly when asked. And also, I remind myself often: people have a right to live, and even to die, in their own way.
That last one is really the heart of this whole post.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped needing everyone’s choices to match mine. What matters most isn’t whether someone follows my protocol. What matters is that their healing journey belongs to them. What they believe about their own body is more important than what I believe about it.
There’s a time and place for education and recommendations. I’ll always show up for that, fully, because I care. But there’s also a time for acceptance, grace, and love. And that time matters just as much, maybe more.
We don’t always get a choice in life, or in dying. But the things we can choose should be ours to choose. Not mine to police.
So if you’re a practitioner, here’s my invitation: let’s support each other. Let’s laugh together at the desk dinners and the potato chips and the sunrise we slept fifteen minutes past. Let’s hold what we know with open hands, and hold each other with even more grace. None of us needed to be perfect to help someone else heal. We just needed to be real, and a little less alone in it.
With love (and zero judgment about your morning cup),
Kelli
P.S. If that “let’s laugh together” feeling is something you want more of, that’s exactly what we’ve built inside FARC (Foundations in Anxiety Recovery Coaching). Six weeks, live mentorship, a real circle of practitioners. Fall cohort starts September 13th, waitlist registration opens August 6th.
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