Morning Mindfulness Practice

The Best Promise I’ve Ever Made to Myself

For the past eight years, I’ve held a quiet but powerful promise to myself—one that has changed my life in ways I never could have predicted. I call it Mindful Mornings. It’s not a rigid routine or a fixed checklist of habits. It’s a commitment to begin each day with mindfulness instead of mindlessness—with presence, intention, and care.

This practice isn’t about perfection. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It adapts and evolves as I do. Some mornings are slow and silent. Others are full of energy and movement. There are days when I journal for half an hour, and others when all I can manage is a quiet coffee in bed whilst cuddling my babies. The key is that I check in with myself first, and then I choose how to meet the day from there.

That self-check is the most important part. Mindful Mornings give me space to ask: How am I feeling? What do I need? And then I build my morning around the honest answer. It’s a soft but steady anchor in a world that often demands we hit the ground running without ever pausing to breathe.

But It Hasn’t Always Been Like This...

I want to acknowledge something upfront: I am deeply privileged to have this time now. I know that long, spacious mornings aren’t available to everyone, and I certainly didn’t always have this kind of flexibility myself.

Years ago, I used to wake up at 4:30 AM to commute from Cape Town to Stellenbosch for work. My mornings were not Mindful at all. But rather quite chaotic: shower, pack food, rush out the door. There was no time to stretch or journal or sip slowly on tea. But even then, I did my best to still carve out mindful moments in the margins. My car became my sanctuary. I’d pour coffee into a takeaway cup, press play on a podcast or audiobook, and set my intentions for the day as I drove through the dark. That daily ritual, small as it was, planted the seeds for the life I now live.

Looking back, I see how those early mindful commutes shaped my present. They helped me start showing up for myself in little ways. They helped me believe in a life where mornings didn’t feel like a battle. And perhaps most importantly, they reminded me that mindfulness doesn’t require perfect conditions. It only requires a willingness to pause.

How This Practice Has Shifted Since Becoming a Parent

Becoming a mother transformed my mornings yet again. There are seasons now where I don't have the luxury of a slow start or an hour of solitude. Some mornings begin with little feet crawling into my bed before the sun rises, and the needs of my children come before my own. And so, I’ve adapted. I’ve learned to strip mindfulness down to its simplest form—a deep breath before I get up, a moment of silence while brushing my teeth, a cup of tea sipped slowly instead of multitasking. I no longer measure my practice by how long it lasts but by how intentionally I show up for myself, even in small ways. These small acts of self-care—getting dressed slowly, stepping outside for five minutes of fresh air, saying no to chaos first thing—are now my foundation. And honestly, they are just as sacred.

A Life Built on Tiny Commitments

These days, my Mindful Mornings are full of the things I once dreamed of: yoga, meditation, journaling, nature walks, reading, reflecting, swimming, music, movement, breathwork. Some mornings I do one or two of these. Some days, I do many, depending on my work load, my families needs and commitments.

But make no mistake—this life wasn’t built overnight. It began with a simple choice: to make time for myself, even in small, imperfect ways. To listen to what I needed, even when life was loud. To trust that healing can happen in the smallest of moments.

And now, eight years later, I see the ripple effect of that decision.

Your Invitation to Begin

I didn’t know back then where this practice would take me. I just knew that my heart needed something different. A pause. A breath. A soft beginning.

So let me ask you this, gently:

• What is your heart asking for right now?

• What would it feel like to give yourself just ten minutes each morning to check in, to breathe, to choose presence over autopilot?

  
  

You don’t need a perfect routine or a two-hour window. You just need a willingness to begin—wherever you are, however your life looks right now.

Because sometimes, the smallest commitments are the ones that change everything.