Lisa Katona Smith Family Consultant
Interventionist
Speaker
Author

There are seasons in life when everything feels like forward motion – doing, fixing, planning, managing, helping. For many years, that was how I measured progress, my own, and others’. If I was moving, I must be okay. If I was doing something to help my son, maybe we’d both be okay.

But there comes a point, usually after a long stretch of over-doing, when you realize that the pace you’ve been keeping has left you winded in ways you can’t see. The calendar looks full, the lists keep growing, and yet—something inside you has gone still.

That’s where I found myself one afternoon, sitting in the quiet, realizing I’d been living entirely outside of myself. I was so focused on what was next, what needed fixing, what had gone wrong, that I’d forgotten to check in with the only person I could actually change: me.

That moment, that pause, was uncomfortable. I didn’t like the stillness. I wanted to fill it. But as I stayed with it, I realized that the stillness was not a void but an opening.

Living forward, I’ve learned, doesn’t always mean pushing ahead. Sometimes it means turning inward. Listening to the quiet voice inside that says, I’m tired. Or I miss myself. Or even I don’t know what’s next, but I want to find out.

That inward turn is not selfish. It’s the beginning of healing.Because when we reconnect with ourselves – our breath, our body, our truth – we stop living in reaction to someone else’s chaos and start responding from our own groundedness.

It’s the same principle I teach in Parallel Recovery®: your recovery isn’t waiting for someone else’s sobriety. It’s already unfolding every time you choose awareness over autopilot, compassion over control, and presence over panic.

If you’re feeling the tug to slow down, to check in, to look inward, trust it and listen. That tug is your invitation.

Here’s a small way to start: Find a quiet spot, take a deep breath, and finish these three sentences without thinking too hard:

Write them down, even if they feel simple. Then, read them back to yourself and take one small step toward honoring what you wrote. That’s living forward – not by force, but by awareness.

Because when you turn inward with honesty and gentleness, life begins to move again. And this time, it’s movement that lasts.

With care and presence,

Lisa