The Gentle Metric 🧭

🧭 Tracking Your Life as a Ritual of Self-Respect (Not Control)

There was a time when I thought tracking things—steps, weight, sleep, habits—meant I was being too controlling. Like I was slipping into some kind of spreadsheet-for-your-soul productivity spiral and next week I’d be eating boiled chicken every day.

But lately, something has shifted.

Tracking no longer feels like control.

It feels like care.

Like a gentle metric. A quiet kind of self-respect. A way of whispering to your body,

“I’m here. I’m listening. I want to know you.”

⏱️ You Can’t Change What You Don’t Track…

…but tracking doesn’t have to feel like KPI culture for your soul.

There’s a phrase that gets thrown around in business: “You can’t improve what you don’t measure.”

While it sounds sterile, I’ve come to realise—it’s true.

But it’s only helpful in a personal sense when approached with softness.

When I started weighing myself every morning, I didn’t do it to shrink or punish my body.

I did it to see.

To be honest about where I was at.

To meet myself without judgement.

Because how can you shift what you refuse to look at?

What I Track:

• I bought a scale. Not to shame myself, but to get honest. To see where I was at. To meet myself there.

• I started checking my step count—not to chase a number, but to honour movement. I wanted daily movement goalposts.

• I wear a smartwatch while I sleep to track my sleep cycles and spot the daily things that improve or worsen sleep quality.

• I track my mood across the month—not to “fix” myself, but to see the rhythms I hadn’t noticed before.

Each one became a ritual. A moment of tuning in.

But Also This—A Necessary Compassion:

Not everyone is ready to step on the scale.

Not everyone wants to see the numbers.

And that’s okay.

For some, looking too soon can feel like a rupture instead of a reunion.

So if that’s where you’re at—skip the scale. Start with a journal. Or a breath. Or a simple question: How am I, really?

🧠 Bottom-Up Healing: Awareness Before Action

Chapter 3 of Fires of Alchemy explores the power of bottom-up healing—the idea that change doesn’t always begin and end in the mind. It can begin in the body too.

We’re taught to believe that if we just change our thoughts, our body will follow. But if you’ve ever had a panic attack while “logically” knowing you were safe, you already know that doesn’t always work.

The body holds on.

And so, tracking becomes a bridge. A way to gently tell your body: I’m paying attention. You’re not alone in this.

🚶‍♂️ Movement as A Friend, Not Punishment For Eating

One of the most empowering shifts in my life came when I reframed movement—not as exercise, but as a way to reconnect my mind to my body.

I began tracking my steps. Not to hit a number, but to honour momentum.

A walk became a daily spell. A way to come back into rhythm with the world.

In the park, I run my hands through the ferns - I reach out and touch the tree bark, it’s great for your nervous system.

My smartwatch became less of a daily boss to defeat and more of a daily drumbeat:

You are still moving. You are still alive.

A 10 minute walk is better than none at all.

💬 Data Is a Dialogue, Not a Judgement

Over time, I stopped treating numbers like verdicts.

Steps. Sleep. Weight. Mood. They’re not measurements of worth.

They’re conversations with the body.

They don’t say: “Good or bad.”

They ask: “How are you feeling today? What changed?”

I stopped asking, “Am I succeeding?”

And started asking, “Am I listening to my body?”

🛌 The Sleep Spiral & Emotional Resets

Sleep was the one that really cracked me open.

We’ve all heard how important sleep is, of course I already knew this on some level but when I actively started tracking my sleep, it became too clear to ignore: my anxiety wasn’t random.

On nights I didn’t sleep well, I woke up wired, snappy, fragile. Forever chasing more energy through coffee.

And science backs it—just one night of poor sleep can spike your fear response by 60%.*

It’s no wonder everything felt harder.

Tracking my sleep didn’t shame me. It showed me. And that gave me something to work with.

If I can see the pattern I can disrupt it.

🧘‍♀️ Self-Accountability as a Nervous System Love Language

This kind of tracking—gentle, aware, nonjudgmental—isn’t about being hyper-productive. It’s about rebuilding trust with your body.

• Trust that you’ll notice when something’s off.

• Trust that you’ll show up for yourself, softly and consistently.

• Trust that healing can be quiet and slow and real.

This is the gentle metric.

It’s not about “progress.”

It’s about presence. 

Be kind and compassionate with yourself and always remember that any action or movement, even just standing up and jumping on the spot for a few seconds is worthwhile.

You don’t always have to go to the gym or go for a whole walk to access the mental, emotional and spiritual benefits of movement. 

Make the mountain as small for yourself as you can, especially on those days you really don’t feel like getting up.

🌱 Final Reflection: Track the Love, Too

We track the problems so often.

But what if we also tracked:

• The joyful moments - (if using a mood tracker, make sure to track the good ones too!)

• The songs that gave us chills - (why not start a playlist for goosebumps or synchronicities?)

• The meals that reminded us of home - (start your own personal cookbook of family recipes)

Let your data reflect all of you.

You are not a project.

You are a garden.

So don’t forget to add water. Track the rain. Bathe in the sun.

Then you bloom—on your own terms 🪷

🔍 Try This: A 3-Minute Ritual of Self-Awareness

Each morning, or whenever you remember:

1. Check in with your body.

Where is there tension? Lightness? What sensation speaks the loudest?

2. Record one or two things.

Maybe it’s your weight. Your mood. Your sleep. A word like “overwhelmed” or “peaceful.”

3. Ask gently: “What do I need today?”

That’s it.

No dashboard. No perfection. Just a tiny thread of connection, woven daily.

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References

*Goldstein, A. N., & Walker, M. P. (2014). The role of sleep in emotional brain function. Annual review of clinical psychology, 10, 679–708. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-clinpsy-032813-153716