I almost stopped
Why I didn’t… and what’s changing instead
Hi there,
This winter has been wetter than usual and it might just be me but at times it’s felt like the rain has seeped into everything. My days have felt heavy and long, the light slow to arrive and quicker than ever to leave. And in this grey stretch of time, I have found myself thinking thoughts I didn’t entirely expect.
I’ve wondered whether to keep WorkWell going.
That feels strange to write, especially given how much joy it has brought me. I have loved creating it. I have loved finding my voice through this newsletter and through the UN/DO podcast. I have loved the thrill of sending something out into the world and hearing back from you that it resonated. Writing these letters has been, without question, my favourite part of building this whole thing.
But life has been lifing, as it does. Chronic health issues do not care about your content calendar. Responsibilities do not pause because you have a creative idea. Energy is not an infinite resource, no matter how good your intentions are. So, I had to get honest about whether I was building something sustainable or simply stretching myself thinner.
I am not into New Year’s resolutions, but I have been paying more attention to the seasons than ever before and this long, damp winter has had a way of stripping things back. When the days are short and your body is tired, you can’t pretend clarity. You either keep pushing or you admit what’s no longer working.
What I realised is that I don’t want to stop WorkWell. I want to embody it.
I don’t want to keep producing thoughtful words about rest and play while sidelining those things in my own life. I don’t want to encourage you to live well enough to enjoy your life if I am not willing to make brave adjustments to mine. And I don’t want to build something that costs me more than it gives, however meaningful it might be.
That realisation has been uncomfortable, but it’s also been clarifying. In truth, the parts of WorkWell that light me up the most are the moments of connection. The conversations. The shared laughter. Even the shared sorrow.
For a long time, I have wanted to create experiences that embody the “rest well” and “play more” parts of my philosophy. To step out of theory or something you just read about, and into something you feel in your body. So, this winter, instead of talking myself out of that desire, I decided to lean into it. Which is how the Play Day and the Rest Day were born.
For now, they are small, free, virtual pilots, experiments really. A couple of hours carved out for grown-ups who are tired of being tired, or who have forgotten how to have fun without feeling self-conscious about it. They won’t feature productivity hacks and it’s not faux wellness. They are designed to allow us to slow down, notice what we actually need and to remember that rest and play are not indulgences… they are necessities.
If I’m honest, launching them has required more courage than writing any newsletter ever has. It’s one thing to have ideas but it is another to ask people to show up in real time and try something with you. But I kept coming back to a question that has been tapping at me all winter: what would I regret not attempting?
And that question isn’t just for me.
As we move toward spring, I wonder what you have been avoiding because it feels inconvenient or slightly scary. I wonder what you have been postponing until things calm down (do they ever?). I wonder what you are tired of pretending is fine. And I wonder where you might need to be just a little braver.
This is a journey of alignment and about noticing when something needs to evolve rather than end. It’s about building in a way that feels human and sustainable and it’s about choosing depth over noise.
If any of that resonates, I would love for you to be part of this next chapter. Not as an audience member, but as a co-creator. The pilots are free because I genuinely want to shape them with real people in the room. I want to know what lands, what feels awkward, what sparks something. I want to build something that reflects not just my ideas, but our shared experience of trying to live well in complicated times.
Whatever happens next, I know this much: I am no longer interested in building a life, or a business, that ignores the very principles it claims to value. Rest matters. Play matters. Courage matters. And sometimes winter exists to force you to admit that.
If you’re craving more rest, or more aliveness, or simply a different way of doing things, consider this your invitation.
We can figure it out together. Register for the Play Day (Sunday 1st March) here and the Rest Day (Sunday 8th March) here.
WorkWell Wisdom
“Your life is your life. Don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.”
- Charles Bukowski
You don’t have to burn everything down to be brave. Sometimes courage looks like adjusting the structure instead of abandoning the house.
If this winter has stirred something in you, you might want to reflect on these prompts:
Where am I pushing through something that actually needs rethinking?
What would change if I built my life around sustainability, not stamina?
What small act of alignment would make me feel more like myself again?
Not everything needs a dramatic overhaul. But something might just need your attention.
WorkWell Recommends
Watch: Interview With the Vampire (AMC)
Yes, it’s about vampires. But it’s also about identity, memory, regret and the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and who we were. It’s lush, intelligent and emotionally devastating in the best way. If you’ve ever wrestled with the tension between who you were and who you’re becoming, you’ll find something in it.
Read/Listen: Rest Is Resistance by Tricia Hersey
Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry, reframes rest not as indulgence but as liberation. In this empowering and deeply considered book, she challenges the grind culture that teaches us our worth is tied to productivity and invites us to see rest as both resistance and repair. If you can, listen to her read it herself. There is something profoundly grounding about hearing her voice carry the message.
Do: Audit your energy, not your goals
Instead of asking “What do I want to achieve?” ask “What gives me energy and what drains it?”. Then adjust one small thing accordingly. Cancel something. Extend something. Simplify something. Protect something. Alignment is built in increments.
Before you go
I don’t know exactly what WorkWell becomes next. But I know I want it to be something real. Something lived. Something embodied.
Here’s to building lives and projects that don’t cost us our health. Here’s to rest that restores. Here’s to play that reminds us who we are. And here’s to being brave enough to evolve.
Until next time,
Dulcie x
Be gentle with yourself.
Work smart, rest well, play more.
And build something you can live with.