Nothing recharges my drained batteries quite like being near water. There’s something about it - whether it’s a lake, river, the sea, or a waterfall - that feels instantly grounding. As soon as I hear the gentle rush or crash of water, it’s like my body finally gives permission to exhale.

The last few weeks have been intense. My partner and I have both felt like we’re running on empty, barely catching our breath before the next thing demands our energy. Working full time, running Introvert in the Workplace, being parents, seeing friends and family, trying to keep on top of the housework - it doesn’t leave much time to just be. To sit still, breathe deeply, or feel like ourselves outside of the endless to-do list.

So this weekend we put ourselves first and carved out some much-needed family time, heading up to Aysgarth Falls in Yorkshire.

Even the drive was a balm - the sunshine filtering through the windows, the quiet hum of the road, and our little one snoozing in the back. Bliss.

But stepping out of the car and hearing the falls? That’s when the magic really started. I could feel the tension melting off my shoulders, my inner noise quieting. It was like my nervous system finally felt safe to let go.

The sound of the rushing water was both powerful and soothing, echoing through the trees like nature’s white noise.

The air smelled fresh and earthy, and when we stepped down closer to the water, it felt alive. Our little one was giggling and throwing pebbles like it was the best day ever. And honestly, it kind of was.

We spent the day climbing around the falls, skimming stones, splashing in the shallows, and soaking up the sunshine. It was simple, joyful, and exactly what we needed. I left feeling lighter. Recharged. Though, like a petulant child, I didn’t want to go.

It reminded me that the little top-up rituals we use to get through our days - five quiet minutes here, earphones in there - are helpful, but sometimes they’re just not enough. Sometimes we need a proper reset. A full-body, full-soul recharge.

As an introvert, I think that need is often deeper. It's not just about rest - it’s about decompression. Silence. Space. Being away from the low hum of constant expectation and interaction. Water, for me, has always provided that space. It drowns out the rest of the world for a little while - and in that quiet, I remember who I am underneath the noise.

You can’t pour from an empty cup. And you shouldn’t have to.

Whether it's water, a forest trail, running, music, or simply silence - whatever fills you back up - make time for it.

Not half-heartedly. Not squeezed in. But wholeheartedly. You deserve that.