Not long ago, an older and wiser person in my life asked me a question that I’ve been thinking about ever since. Out of the blue, apropos of nothing at all, she asked, I’ve been wondering: do you stretch?

Hers was a simple question about a physical practice. And yet I was shocked at the amount of stuff it brought up for me. Without examining the details of our long conversation, I’ll just say my answer could be boiled down to three little words: I used to.

I used to stretch, but due to a confluence of circumstances involving frigid weather, disrupted routines, a simple cold, and plain forgetfulness, I’d fallen out of the habit these past few months. When she asked me this question, I understood in a rush how much my body missed it, how much I missed it. And I started again, immediately: doing my simple long-ago-prescribed sports injury exercises in the doorframe, and queueing up 6-minute yoga videos in the living room once or twice a day.

Until she asked me that simple question—do you stretch?—I didn’t realize how much I had missed it.

We have a longstanding February practice here at Modern Mrs Darcy. Winter isn’t an easy season for many of us, and so to beat back the gloom, we’ve habitually gathered at its midpoint to share the things—big or small—that are saving us right now.

The idea comes from Barbara Brown Taylor’s memoir Leaving Church. In it, she tells the story of how once, when she was invited to speak at a gathering, her host gave her this instruction for her speaking topic: “Tell us what is saving your life right now.” She said the genius of the question is that though most of us know exactly what’s killing us, it’s harder to name what’s saving us. It’s too good a question not to revisit from time to time, and so we’ve done it annually at the midpoint of winter.

We’ve been doing this for over a decade now, and over the years my answers have ranged from philosophically profound, as in the small sips that are saving me and travel advice as life advice, to practical and tactical, like jigsaw puzzles and Friday planning coffee. I’ve written about laundry and sitting on the couch. Last year, just after my mom died suddenly, I wrote about not the things that were saving me, exactly, but the things that were helping me keep my head above water. Over and over again, I’ve written about sunshine and long walks and good books and sleep.

So much of what is saving me in this season is not new: dependable routines, long walks, morning reading. (This year, I struggled more than usual in differentiating what’s working for me from what’s saving me, because so many of the things that worked for me in 2024 are certainly helping, little by little, day by day.)

But I felt pulled to reach deeper than recipe apps and skincare on what’s saving me, and the word that kept coming to mind was flexibility. It took me a surprisingly long time to connect this broad concept to my friend’s question.

This winter, flexibility has looked like moving things on my calendar so everything “fits,” and shifting responsibilities so I’m not overburdened. My MMD/WSIRN team has been such a help here (read: has saved me over and over again) but I’m speaking of the personal stuff as well: Monday is my carpool day, but Will did the driving this morning because my day is PACKED and his isn’t. I wanted to mail that estate filing to the court by the end of January so I could cross it off my list, but they don’t actually need it till March, so I can give myself grace and move my internal deadline back a few weeks.

But I also mean flexibility in the physical sense, that my friend’s question pointed to: it means relaxing my shoulders and lengthening my hamstrings and unkinking the kinks. It means getting unstuck in more ways than one, moving my body to move my mind (which, incidentally, is a core Don’t Overthink it tenet; how could I have let it lapse so easily?)

When I think flexibility, I think about being limber, responsive, resilient. Resilience is a big ask right now; it’s a state of being I don’t often dwell in now but would like to walk my way back to. One of the ways I’m doing that is by focusing on small, super-practical stuff. I’m reminding myself that I can make needed adjustments—by reconfiguring my calendar or my posture—when it’s clear that I need them. I can take satisfaction and maybe even pleasure in resuming my doorway sports injury exercises and six-minute yoga videos. Now that I’ve re-established the habit, they’re saving me.

There’s a reason we do this as a community: I know I’m not the only one who would very much like to hear what’s saving your life right now—or, if that question feels like a bridge too far, what’s keeping your head above water. Would you tell us?

What’s saving your life right now? Tell us below, or link to your own blog or Instagram post below in the comments section.