The Shared Experience, Vol. 4: The Rituals Found in Hands, Feet, and Rhythm

June 22, 2026

It’s been a bittersweet week — like a salted dark chocolate cookie that got left in the oven just a minute too long.

You still eat it. You enjoy the sweetness and the savoriness, but you can’t help noticing that slightly burned edge. It’s still good, but it’s not quite what you expected.

That’s honestly how this week has felt.

Sweet. Savory. Just a little overcooked.

After 16 years of being a mother to an elementary school student, I watched my youngest of four daughters graduate from fifth grade. The chapter that began in 2010, when my oldest daughter walked into kindergarten, has finally closed.

Sixteen years.

A lifetime, it seems.

For sixteen consecutive years, I have had a child in elementary school. And now, suddenly, I don’t.

It’s momentous. It’s exciting. It’s sad. It’s joyful. It’s all of those things at once.

The other night, my husband and I were watching one of our favorite HBO series, Entourage. We first started watching it when our oldest daughter was born. As the opening credits rolled, I found myself reflecting on how much life has changed. The version of myself who first watched that show feels both familiar and distant.

I’ve left one stage and stepped onto another.

Like climbing an escalator to a new level, the view is different from here. The stage of life that once felt small and predictable has expanded. There is more to take in, more to learn, and perhaps even more of myself to rediscover.

At the same time, perimenopause adds another layer to the experience.

Our hormones fluctuate like the tides — rising and falling, shifting unexpectedly. Emotions can feel amplified. Thoughts swirl. Some days it’s difficult to find steady ground.

For many years I studied yoga and taught classes throughout the Bay Area and Silicon Valley, in both corporate settings and fitness studios. The practice taught me something that has only become more valuable as I’ve grown older: how to be comfortable with discomfort.

Breathing through difficult moments.

Finding steadiness during uncertainty.

Accepting change rather than resisting it.

As I navigate this season of life, I’ve found myself returning to simple rituals that calm my mind and regulate my nervous system when the waters get choppy.

Here are four of my favorites.

1. Breathe

The simplest ritual is often the most powerful.

When I feel overwhelmed, I’ll take a few deep breaths in through my nose and exhale forcefully through my mouth. Sometimes I’ll add a long sigh at the top of a deep inhale.

It feels like a release. A letting go. A reminder that I don’t have to carry every worry with me.

Sometimes all we need is one conscious breath to interrupt the spiral.

2. Occupy Your Hands

My grandmother was a knitter. My mother still enjoys counted cross-stitch. I enjoy gardening.

When I need grounding, I’ll head outside and check on the plants in our yard — pull a few weeds, water what needs watering, trim away dead leaves, and simply spend a few quiet moments tending to something living.

Research suggests that engaging in purposeful, repetitive fine-motor activities may help reduce anxiety by redirecting attention, engaging sensorimotor networks, and fostering a sense of calm and accomplishment.

Sometimes, calming the mind starts with occupying the hands.

For women navigating perimenopause, anxiety often shows up as racing thoughts, overwhelm, irritability, or difficulty relaxing. Hand-based rituals offer a form of active mindfulness that can feel more accessible than sitting still and trying not to think. A few favorites:

Knitting, crochet, or sewing

Gardening

Coloring

Beading

Journaling

Cooking or meal prep

Kneading bread dough

Mindfully applying skincare

Arranging flowers

Holding and rolling a worry stone

One of my own favorite hand-based rituals is mindfully applying Suet’Amor. I take a moment to warm the balm between my fingertips, then slowly massage it into my skin — face, neck, elbows, and below the hips. What starts as a skincare step becomes a grounding practice that brings me back to the present moment.

3. Walk

When anxiety starts to build, one of the first things I do is go for a walk.

Research shows that walking can help reduce symptoms of anxiety, and spending time in nature may offer even greater benefits.

There is something incredibly regulating about the rhythm of placing one foot in front of the other.

A trail. A creek. A neighborhood sidewalk. The destination rarely matters. What matters is the movement.

When I feel overwhelmed, I don’t always need answers. Sometimes I simply need the reminder that my body already knows how to move through difficult seasons.

Walking is one of my favorite rituals because it reconnects me to myself.

4. Find Your Rhythm

The final ritual I turn to is music. Sometimes loudly.

I’ll put in my wired earbuds, press play, and let a good house track take over.

Not every healing ritual is quiet. Sometimes it’s a walk through the mountains. Sometimes it’s a house song at 124 BPM.

Research suggests our bodies naturally respond to rhythm — as we listen, our movement, breathing, and attention often begin to synchronize with the beat.

Maybe that’s why music can feel so freeing. Not because it makes life’s challenges disappear, but because, for a few minutes, the mind stops racing and the body remembers its rhythm.

As I’ve moved through perimenopause, I’ve learned that calming my nervous system doesn’t always mean slowing down. Sometimes it means moving.

Hands. Feet. Rhythm.

When I look at these rituals together, I notice a common thread.

Fine motor activities calm the mind by engaging the hands. Walking eases anxiety by moving the body through space. Music provides rhythm that encourages movement and presence.

Together, they remind me of something simple yet profound: when the mind feels overwhelmed, return to the body. It has a remarkable way of guiding us through change, if we’re willing to listen.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

If grounding through touch is part of your own ritual, Suet’Amor was made for exactly that kind of moment — a small pause, warmed between your hands, before the day asks anything more of you.

Back to blog

It’s been a bittersweet week — like a salted dark chocolate cookie that got left in the oven just a minute too long.

You still eat it. You enjoy the sweetness and the savoriness, but you can’t help noticing that slightly burned edge. It’s still good, but it’s not quite what you expected.

That’s honestly how this week has felt.

Sweet. Savory. Just a little overcooked.

After 16 years of being a mother to an elementary school student, I watched my youngest of four daughters graduate from fifth grade. The chapter that began in 2010, when my oldest daughter walked into kindergarten, has finally closed.

Sixteen years.

A lifetime, it seems.

For sixteen consecutive years, I have had a child in elementary school. And now, suddenly, I don’t.

It’s momentous. It’s exciting. It’s sad. It’s joyful. It’s all of those things at once.

I’ve left one stage and stepped onto another.

Like climbing an escalator to a new level, the view is different from here. The stage of life that once felt small and predictable has expanded. There is more to take in, more to learn, and perhaps even more of myself to rediscover.

At the same time, perimenopause adds another layer to the experience.

Our hormones fluctuate like the tides — rising and falling, shifting unexpectedly. Emotions can feel amplified. Thoughts swirl. Some days it’s difficult to find steady ground.

For many years I studied yoga and taught classes throughout the Bay Area and Silicon Valley, in both corporate settings and fitness studios. The practice taught me something that has only become more valuable as I’ve grown older: how to be comfortable with discomfort.

Breathing through difficult moments.

Finding steadiness during uncertainty.

Accepting change rather than resisting it.

As I navigate this season of life, I’ve found myself returning to simple rituals that calm my mind and regulate my nervous system when the waters get choppy.

Here are four of my favorites.

1. Breathe

The simplest ritual is often the most powerful.

When I feel overwhelmed, I’ll take a few deep breaths in through my nose and exhale forcefully through my mouth. Sometimes I’ll add a long sigh at the top of a deep inhale.

It feels like a release. A letting go. A reminder that I don’t have to carry every worry with me.

Sometimes all we need is one conscious breath to interrupt the spiral.

2. Occupy Your Hands

My grandmother was a knitter. My mother still enjoys counted cross-stitch. I enjoy gardening.

When I need grounding, I’ll head outside and check on the plants in our yard — pull a few weeds, water what needs watering, trim away dead leaves, and simply spend a few quiet moments tending to something living.

Research suggests that engaging in purposeful, repetitive fine-motor activities may help reduce anxiety by redirecting attention, engaging sensorimotor networks, and fostering a sense of calm and accomplishment.

Sometimes, calming the mind starts with occupying the hands.

For women navigating perimenopause, anxiety often shows up as racing thoughts, overwhelm, irritability, or difficulty relaxing. Hand-based rituals offer a form of active mindfulness that can feel more accessible than sitting still and trying not to think. A few favorites:

3. Walk

When anxiety starts to build, one of the first things I do is go for a walk.

Research shows that walking can help reduce symptoms of anxiety, and spending time in nature may offer even greater benefits.

There is something incredibly regulating about the rhythm of placing one foot in front of the other.

A trail. A creek. A neighborhood sidewalk. The destination rarely matters. What matters is the movement.

When I feel overwhelmed, I don’t always need answers. Sometimes I simply need the reminder that my body already knows how to move through difficult seasons.

Walking is one of my favorite rituals because it reconnects me to myself.

4. Find Your Rhythm

The final ritual I turn to is music. Sometimes loudly.

I’ll put in my wired earbuds, press play, and let a good house track take over.

Not every healing ritual is quiet. Sometimes it’s a walk through the mountains. Sometimes it’s a house song at 124 BPM.

Research suggests our bodies naturally respond to rhythm — as we listen, our movement, breathing, and attention often begin to synchronize with the beat.

Maybe that’s why music can feel so freeing. Not because it makes life’s challenges disappear, but because, for a few minutes, the mind stops racing and the body remembers its rhythm.

As I’ve moved through perimenopause, I’ve learned that calming my nervous system doesn’t always mean slowing down. Sometimes it means moving.

Hands. Feet. Rhythm.

When I look at these rituals together, I notice a common thread.

Fine motor activities calm the mind by engaging the hands. Walking eases anxiety by moving the body through space. Music provides rhythm that encourages movement and presence.

Together, they remind me of something simple yet profound: when the mind feels overwhelmed, return to the body. It has a remarkable way of guiding us through change, if we’re willing to listen.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

If grounding through touch is part of your own ritual, Suet’Amor was made for exactly that kind of moment — a small pause, warmed between your hands, before the day asks anything more of you.

Join The Ritual