I’ve never really resonated with the term “self-care.” It’s become one of those overused buzzwords, splashed across social media alongside advertisements for everything from face masks to yoga retreats in Bali. Don’t get me wrong—there’s nothing inherently wrong with either of those things. But for me, they often feel like surface-level fixes. They’re like putting a band-aid on a soul that feels wholly wrung out, that profound, gnawing exhaustion you feel after pouring every last drop of yourself into caring for someone else.
Sometimes, the needs in front of you are so immense and raw that the idea of retreating to a beach feels almost heartless. How can you think about relaxation when you’ve just sat, 100% present, with someone whose life has been shattered? The truth is that life has a way of bringing us face-to-face with brokenness. And whether or not we want to acknowledge it, we all have our limits.
If you’ve been fortunate not to experience that kind of deep, breath-stealing pain, I sincerely hope you never do. But as humans, the messiness and unfairness of life will eventually find us. That’s why the term “self-care” feels so trivial for some of us. When there’s no blood or fire today, aren’t we still having a good day? Who are we to talk about our small struggles when others are battling for their very survival?
But here’s the truth we often ignore: every one of us has a limit. No matter how big, our hearts can only hold so much—pain, distress, and joy. We push, give, dig deep when the cup is already dry, and call it strength. But at some point, we reach a place of exhaustion known as compassion fatigue. It’s not that we’ve lost our ability to care—it’s just that even the most compassionate heart can only give so much without being refilled.
The Balancing Act
While self-care may seem like a buzzword, it makes sense when reframed as an essential starting point for all other care. Much like a juggler keeping three balls in the air, finding a balance between caring for ourselves, giving care to others, and receiving care can sometimes feel overwhelming. When one ball drops, it can disrupt everything else. We often think we need to keep juggling all three without pause, but just as a juggler needs focus and rhythm, so do we balance these aspects of our lives. And sometimes, we must allow ourselves to pause, reflect, and replenish—so that all three can stay in the air.
Mastering the Juggling Act of Care
Imagine yourself holding three juggling balls. One represents self-care, another stands for giving care to others, and the third symbolises receiving care. Even the most generous and big-hearted person needs to learn how to juggle these balls to avoid compassion fatigue. So, what does it take to become a master juggler who knows when to juggle and when to pause? And perhaps most importantly, which ball will you send into the air first? Understanding that all care—whether for yourself or others—exists within a balance is at the heart of this juggling act.
Now, let’s consider this: what if the balls you’re juggling aren’t the same size? Some days, self-care might feel much heavier than giving care; other times, receiving care may seem impossible. How might this imbalance affect your ability to keep everything in motion?
Here’s a little secret. The research surrounding the concept of the Circle of Care teaches us that care must begin with ourselves before it can effectively extend outward. We’ll delve into this idea more in a moment. But first, let’s take a pause. Close your eyes, stop reading briefly, and take three slow, deep breaths. Let the breath travel down into your abdomen, hold it gently, and then allow it to rise and exit. Feel your shoulders relax as you do. Now, let’s revisit the question: which ball should be the first thrown into the air?
Start with Self-Care
The first ball you need to hold steady is self-care. Without a firm foundation in caring for ourselves, the other two balls—giving care and receiving care—will eventually fall.
Kristin Neff, a pioneer in self-compassion research, describes self-compassion as offering the same kindness to ourselves that we would naturally extend to a dear friend who is struggling. It begins by noticing our suffering—pausing to recognise when we feel overwhelmed, inadequate, or hurt. Just as we offer warmth and understanding to a loved one, we can ask ourselves in these difficult moments, “How can I comfort and care for myself right now?”
Neff highlights three main elements of self-compassion that directly connect with our juggling metaphor:
1. Mindfulness: We need to be aware of our struggles without getting swept away by them. A juggler must be present and aware of every ball in the air.
2. Common Humanity: Recognising that suffering, failure, and imperfection are a shared part of the human experience. We all drop the ball sometimes.
3. Kindness: We should offer ourselves the same understanding and encouragement we’d give to others when things don’t go as planned.
Self-compassion means recognising that life’s challenges, frustrations, and losses are inevitable. Instead of criticising ourselves when we fall short, we can practice accepting our limitations and treating ourselves with care. This act of honouring our own humanness allows us to regain balance and juggle the other balls with greater ease.
So, as you begin each day, take a moment to check in with yourself. What do you need today? It could be as simple as a quiet moment, a walk in nature, or even a warm cup of tea. These small acts of self-compassion can keep your self-care ball firmly in the air, allowing you to maintain balance as you juggle the demands of life.
Giving Care to Others – The Outward Flow of Compassion
Once we have established a foundation of self-care, and this is where the concept of the circle of care comes in, we can extend that care outward to others. Giving care to others is the second ball in our juggling act. Whether supporting a friend through a difficult time, nurturing a family member, or working in a caregiving role, offering care can be one of the most rewarding experiences. However, this outward flow can quickly drain our energy reserves without balancing self-care.
One of caregivers’ most common mistakes is thinking their role requires endless self-sacrifice. But giving from an empty cup isn’t sustainable. When we neglect our own needs, the care we provide to others suffers. Instead of feeling energised by giving, we can become resentful or exhausted. Tools like the Circle of Control and Influence come in handy here. The idea is to focus your energy on what you can control—your actions, responses, and boundaries—while letting go of things outside your control, like outcomes or the emotions of others.
Boundaries are another essential tool. I used to think that setting boundaries meant I wasn’t giving enough. But I’ve learned that boundaries are a form of care for myself and those I serve. Without them, I risk giving from a place of emptiness which serves no one. Setting clear limits on your time and energy and learning to say “no” when needed helps preserve your ability to keep giving care without burning out. Remember, giving care should not be at the expense of your well-being. It’s about balance—extending your kindness to others while honouring your capacity.
Practical Tip: Practice checking in with yourself before you offer care. Ask, “Do I have the energy for this right now? If not, what do I need to refill my cup to give wholeheartedly?”
Receiving Care – The Forgotten Ball
The third ball in this juggling act is often the most neglected one: receiving care. For many of us, accepting help from others feels uncomfortable or even shameful. We’re so used to being the ones who give that the idea of being cared for ourselves feels like an admission of weakness. But here’s the truth: receiving care is just as important as providing it. It’s the part of the cycle that replenishes us, allowing us to continue giving from a place of abundance rather than depletion.
I’ve always been more comfortable giving care than receiving it. But there was a moment when I realised that letting others help me wasn’t a sign of weakness—it was an act of connection, of allowing someone else to give in the way I had so often done. I recognised that this person was grateful for things I’d done for them and wanted to reciprocate with care and love in return. I also realised that their way of showing care and love differed from mine. It felt strange at first, but it taught me that care is a two-way street, and sometimes the most significant strength comes in accepting help (or advice, or in this case, a leg of lamb from Countdown).
When we receive care, we acknowledge that we are human, with limits and needs just like everyone else. It’s a practice of humility, allowing us to be vulnerable and letting others step in to support us. It can be as simple as accepting a friend’s offer to help with a task, seeking out emotional support, or even leaning on a professional, such as a therapist or Wellness Coach, when life feels overwhelming.
Here’s the beauty of the Circle of Care: when we allow others to care for us, we mutually exchange compassion. It’s a love-and-be-love moment. Just as we feel fulfilled when we offer care to someone in need, others feel the same when they are allowed to care for us. Brené Brown talks about the power of vulnerability and connection in this way—receiving care helps to foster deeper, more authentic relationships.
Practical Tip: Take small steps to practice receiving care. The next time someone offers help, say yes—even if it feels a little uncomfortable. Allow yourself to be cared for, and see how it enriches your life and the lives of those around you.
Practical Tools to Stay Balanced
Now that we’ve explored the three balls in this juggling act—self-care, giving care, and receiving care—it’s time to consider keeping all three in the air without dropping one. The key is recognising that balance is fluid. There will be days when self-care takes priority and other days when you give more care than you receive. What matters is staying aware of the balance and making adjustments when needed.
Here are a few practical tools that can help you stay balanced:
1. The Care Pie Exercise: Draw a pie chart to represent how you spend your energy on self-care, giving care, and receiving care. This visual can help you see if one area is taking up too much space and guide you in adjusting. After you’ve drawn your Care Pie, take a moment to journal what you notice. Which area feels most neglected? How might that be affecting your emotional or physical well-being?
2. Mindfulness Practices: Use mindfulness techniques like breathing exercises or body scans to check in with yourself regularly. These practices help you stay present and aware of how much energy you have to give at any moment.
3. Scheduled Respite: Build intentional downtime into your schedule. Whether it’s a five-minute break for a cup of tea or a full day dedicated to rest, make sure you are consistently refilling your cup.
4. Gratitude Journaling: At the end of each day, reflect on moments when you gave and received care and how you practised self-care. A gratitude practice helps shift the focus from exhaustion to appreciation, reminding you of the beauty of caregiving.
Remember, being a master juggler doesn’t mean you never drop a ball. It means knowing when to pause, when to adjust, and when to ask for help. And perhaps most importantly, it means practising compassion—for yourself and those around you.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I pushed too hard. I had been pouring everything into the people I cared for. And though I didn’t want to admit it, I was running on empty. The ball of self-care had fallen, and I had kept going. It wasn’t until I found myself withdrawing from close friends—all of whom had been reaching out to check that I was OK—that I realised something was out of whack and I was hurting those who love me the most.
When you notice a ball has dropped, breathe and practice self-compassion. Tomorrow is a new opportunity to pick it back up, and every dropped ball is simply part of the journey toward balance. We are all jugglers, learning to keep life’s precious elements in the air. By being kind to ourselves, giving care when we can, and receiving care when needed, we can find a rhythm that allows us to flourish.
Take a moment now to think about your own life. Which of the three balls—self-care, giving, or receiving care—feels the most neglected? Can you think of a small step you could take today to create more balance, and what might it look like to carry that balance forward in the days ahead?
