Speaking of redemption arcs, for the past two weeks, I’ve been doing a yoga challenge.

It’s not very me, tbh, to do a challenge, of any sort.

Yet every morning at 7am I’ve rolled out my mat (and my husband’s - we’re in this together), turned on zoom and joined 40-odd other snippets of limbs for 30 minutes of moving and breathing and the like.

Now I don’t wanna sound impossibly smug (*unavoidable), but I already do this most mornings. Normally actually a bit earlier (SO SMUG).

However, I chose to do this challenge for three reasons.

First, it’s being led by Naomi Annand, a teacher I love and admire and have practised with for more than 20 years. Second, as someone with a regular self-practise it’s good to step outside of that, to remove your blinkers and be guided by another. Third, and the reason I’m telling you about it today, is that I knew it would be a ‘cascading’ habit.

A ‘cascading’ habit is a (small-ish) habit that has a positive knock-on effect across the rest of your life.

It’s the habit that makes every other habit easier.

If you have a 7am yoga session to get to, you’ll probably go to bed earlier than usual. You may also say no to that evening glass of wine. You might even drink a big glass of water when you wake up so you’re hydrated for the class. AND, if the yoga does its thing correctly, you may actually feel more able to navigate some of the stresses of the day.

(Side note reminder: the real ‘point’ of yoga is to take any lessons from the mat – flexibility, strength, persistence, resilience, lightness etc and apply them to your life. Nobody cares if you can put your leg above your head, yet they will care if you can move through your interactions with them holding more grace and compassion.)

A cascading habit can make it easier to make better decisions across other areas of your life. It helps you (in coaching speak!) align your actions with your intentions (the hardest thing of all). It means you don’t have to think so much about positive change, but rather that positive change happens more effortlessly.

The point here is not to add six cascading habits and create a new 5am routine that fills you with dread. It’s to pick one that will do a bit of the heavy lifting for you.

It absolutely does not need to be 7am yoga. It could be an evening walk, putting your phone away at 8pm, making your lunch the night before, reading before bed, a PT session scheduled for a Saturday morning, or simply getting outside first thing. It just needs to be something that you suspect will have a positive spillover effect on the rest of your life – a decision that will remove your need to make other decisions.

So, for these final weeks of summer (I’m calling it a month, early September counts!) pick a cascading habit for yourself. Commit to it for the next 30 days (missing one or two is normal).

See what changes.

I’m on a break now until September. I hope your August is all of this, and more.

L. x

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

If this resonated, my book of the same name goes deeper into modern life, what it’s doing to us and how to more easily navigate it – find out more here.

1. Tomorrow morning I’m giving a talk at The Ned on combatting overwhelm and finding more clarity, and just found out we have 4 guest list spaces. Email Freja – freja@lilysilverton.com – if you’d like one.

2. In September (seems an age away but will creep up fast) I’m speaking at Queens Park Book Fair (my local!) alongside my friend (+ probably the best person in wellness) Shahroo Izadi. We’re being interviewed by the brilliant Emilie Lavinia from The Independent. Grab your free ticket here.

Right! Let’s do this.

In no particular chronological or moral/ethical order here’s a far from exhaustive list of some of the questionable things I did in my late teens, twenties and (v) early thirties…

• Sat on the top deck of an empty bus from Brixton to Camden with a friend at 4am singing and stomping on the floor - every time the driver came up to shout at us, we pretended we had no idea what he was talking about.

• Was consistently a complete bitch to my brother’s lovely girlfriend, for zero reason. (Have apologised since.)

• Secretly watched episodes of 30 Rock for an entire day while my assistant sat across from me editing the fashion film we’d just shot.

• Generally wasn’t very nice to that assistant. Was insecure about my own place in fashion world, insecure people are never very nice.

• Bleached my eyebrows.

• Came back from a yoga retreat and broke up with my then boyfriend of a year refusing to give much of an explanation beyond “vibe”.

• Got most of my calories from white wine.

• Turned to up to style a music video shoot (brief window when I styled) having not only not slept the night before, but also with a newly fractured finger (the artist kindly improvised a splint for me).

• Ignored every single red flag and warning about a certain guy. Dated him anyway. (It did not go well.)

• Generally only really cared about how my life appeared on the outside vs how it actually felt on the inside.

• Made the above fox-head hoodie (no more complex than it sounds - sewed a charity shop fox head stole onto a cashmere (!) hoodie), wore it everywhere for years, with red lipstick as eye shadow.

• Answered emails at 11pm, thinking it made me seem driven.

• Cheated. Lied. Etc.

I could go on, there is worse…

Now, perhaps a vanishingly small number of people who work in wellness discover it young (Dalai Lama?), however, in my experience, many venture into it because they are far from it. First and foremost, they need it themselves.

This was definitely the case for me, and I am sure there are people out there (perhaps even on this mailing list) who knew me when I was younger and remain dubious about what I do now. As someone reminded me recently (at a bookshop talk and signing no less!), the girl group I was in at sixth-form was charmingly known as ‘The Ice Queens’…

I too can think of a few people in the wellness world who were never on my bingo card to work in this industry. For starters, red flag guy now appears to lead Ayurvedic retreats.

And so, here we all are…

People change, and we have to let them.

(Change is the only constant, and all that.)

As hard as it may be, we mustn’t cling too hard to the old version of someone (or of ourselves). We have to allow a bit of grace.

But I’m not here with a full redemption arc.

There’s danger in redemption as a business model – in monetising your recovery, in pushing the N-of-1 model (I healed myself, ergo, I can heal you!)

(Also beware beware the wellness “halo effect”. Just because someone looks healthy, speaks confidently and has nice branding, doesn’t mean they’re credible. I cannot tell you how many beautiful, glowing individuals with huge followings I’ve met who practice the opposite of what they preach…)

Point is, full redemption doesn’t exist.

The work never ends; every difficult experience throws up new challenges. The intensity of being alive feels ever more so when life itself gets intense. I still do awful things now, I just try hard not to do them knowingly. I try to repair things more quickly, I try to choose differently more often, I try to be more aware.

And sometimes, of course, I fail at all this, and more.

But what I do know, and will always will, is what it’s like to be the person making terrible decisions.

What it’s like to look back and feel discomfort and shame and anxiety about the person you used to be and the things you have once done.

What it’s like to compassionately carry that version of yourself while trying hard to become someone else…

If you’d met twenty-five year old me, would you have trusted me to give you life advice? To talk to you about stress and overwhelm?

Would you have bought my book?

Probably not.

Me neither.

My past doesn’t qualify me to do what I do now.

Just because I overcame some things and try to change the way I walk through this world doesn’t make me automatically qualified to teach it to anyone else.

I’ve never said “I’m healed, so listen to me” (I’ve also never said “I’m healed”!) but I will say that for more than a decade I’ve spent my life writing and researching and studying and practicing and coaching and working with organisations and individuals and testing ideas and writing that book thing to try and figure out what actually helps. What moves the needle on being a human trying to walk their individual (yet collective) way through this demanding, exhausting, chaotic, incredible world.

I’m still me. I still have an ego that feels unbearably present at times, I still have some of the same insecurities, the same capacity to be selfish. Behavioural change isn’t about becoming a brand new person, it’s about integrating the many past versions of you with a new one that is ever changing but that you also, subjectively, like a little bit more, and who is also, objectively, a little bit better.

Finally, in a world where everyone is expected to reveal their trauma online, I always wonder with posts like this where the line lies between authenticity and using oversharing as marketing.

Does writing about my messy past make me more trustworthy?

Or am I simply still that former editor who knows that messy stories will hook you in, Daily Mail sidebar style?

On that note, let’s end with another terrible thing I’ve just remembered I did in my 20s…

I wrote for the Daily Mail!

They paid too well for underpaid me to refuse – it was generally about ethical fashion and I wrote under a pseudonym made up of my middle name and mum’s maiden name.

Sleuths, go, do your best!

L. x

p.s. I wasn’t all that terrible all the time, fyi. Often I was pretty nice.

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

If this resonated, my book of the same name goes deeper into modern life, what it’s doing to us and how to more easily navigate it – find out more here.

I’m writing to you from southern Cornwall – Penzance to be exact, the end of the ‘line’ in train terms.

I’ve been coming here with various configurations of loved ones – parents, friends, pets, (ex) boyfriends, husband, children – for nearly 25 years, and it remains, steadfastly, one of my favourite places in the world.

It has little of the chocolate-box beauty or charm of nearby spots (St Ives, we’re all looking at you) but it has developed, particularly over the past 6 years (thanks largely to the pandemic), an incredible – and there is no other word for it – vibe.

The coffee spots, the restaurants, the shops (vintage and new), the pilates studios (if you care about that kind of thing, which, clearly, I do), the saunas… they’re all best in class.

The nearby woods and beaches and the restaurants further afield have always been excellent and made the 5-6 hour journey worth it, but these days the town itself has had a serious glow-up (whilst still remaining perfectly gritty). Combined with the weather this time being unreal (22-24 degrees, plus breeze), I find myself harbouring fantasies of moving here.

(Likelihood of me actually leaving London, where I was born and grew up and where all my family still live and where both me and my husband work = vanishingly slim. Fantasies are fantasies for good reason.)

But essentially, Penzance is brilliant and I can’t recommend it enough (except also I don’t want it to get busy so please keep that between us, yes?) (and if you do come holla and I’ll send you my G maps guide which includes a top-secret woodland Narnia with peacocks…)

Anyway, with that short ode to Penzance complete, here we arrive (finally!) to the subject of today’s newsletter.

For, while I sit here, in one of my favourite places in the world, I still find myself doing the thing I always do on holiday: planning my next holiday.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been on holiday and not spent some of my time away thinking about where I’ll go next.

Some people will tell you that’s a bad habit. Such naysayers will say I should stop doing it, that I should live more in the moment, that I should appreciate where I’m at right now rather than thinking about where I will be…

To which I say: don’t come at me with your ‘shoulds’, I’m not interested in them.

Besides, there’s actually a good, neuroscience-backed reason why planning your next holiday is great for your brain.

It has to do with dopamine – that hormone/neurotransmitter that your system likes ever so much, in large part because it plays an important role in motivation and reward.

And, one of the primary ways it’s released is when we anticipate something we genuinely want.

This in short is why planning enjoyable things can feel (and be!) so good for you.

Having something to look forward to – whether that’s a holiday or something much smaller – has consistently been shown to improve wellbeing.

And the thing about being an adult (which tbh, I’m still not a fan of all the time) is that our diaries become packed full of obligations and commitments so that we never have a moment to spare, but, there’s also very often not enough of the stuff in there that makes us feel genuinely excited. That light us up.

So here’s something to remember the next time you’re feeling low, flat, worn down by life/your mind and/or you look at your diary and see it’s all filler, no killer.

Plan something for the future.

Doesn’t have to be as big as a holiday, can be a walk, dinner, cinema trip, swim, life goal - as long as it’s something that you know you enjoy as this is what will get those pathways to activate.

So, yes, I’ll keep planning my next holiday while I’m on holiday... Send Marseille tips please friends!

L. x

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

If this resonated, my book of the same name goes deeper into modern life, what it’s doing to us and how to more easily navigate it – find out more here.

Today, in this extreme, unfathomable UK heat – which, let it be known, I’m not actually there for, having flown early this morning to Crete for work (more on that another time) – let’s talk balls.

Not the kind kids play with in the park (though not in this weather – mine are actually being sent home early from school for the next few days. Annoying for us (more so for Dan, since I’m not there), but I remember the school pipes freezing in winter and being sent home and the sheer exhilaration of it all, so hoping they’ll feel the same. Making memories, and all that).

I digress. My brain is slightly fried after a few days with little sleep.

The other thing that fries the brain?

Heat. In the city. (Beach holiday: does the opposite.)

It makes us all batshit and irritable; the most mundane, simple task or request quickly and smoothly tipping us over the edge of our precariously balanced life.

(Definitely not me, complaining about summer when all we do in the UK is wait for summer to arrive.)

But, let’s be honest: we can’t think straight when the pavements and train tracks are melting and Argos is all out of paddling pools. Our minds begin to melt too.

Which (finally) brings me back to… balls!

If your mind is melting and you feel like everything is too much. If you feel as if you’re juggling too many balls (which, if you’re a subscriber, I’ll lay a bet you do) and you can’t deal with it all at a normal temperature let alone when it’s 38 degrees outside and possibly even hotter inside, here’s what you need to do…

Figure out which balls will smash if you drop them, and which ones can actually bounce.

Because I’m gonna assume that if you’re juggling all the balls (perhaps even screaming inside while doing it?) that all of those balls feel important. That they all matter to you. That you don’t feel you can put anything down.

But, ultimately, if everything is a priority, nothing is a priority.

(Priorities! Who saw it coming!?)

Not everything in life is equally important, even if it’s really fucking loud and makes you feel that way.

Some things are made of glass – health, key relationships, actual responsibilities. This stuff has actual, real consequences if you ignore them for long. They shouldn’t be put down, they will smash.

Some things, however, are made of rubber. The WhatsApp group thread you haven’t replied to, non-urgent admin, that thing you said you’d do this week but realistically can wait until next week.

The problem is that if you’re the kind of Type A person who likes to “stay on top” of life, then everything feels as if it’s made of glass.

(Btw, I am this kind of person – so I write this as much for myself as you.)

Trying to stay on top of everything, trying to do it all all the time, trying to keep every single thing in the air, even though half of it could be dropped for a bit and bounce back perfectly fine, is what leads us to exhaustion and overwhelm.

A question then, to ask yourself: “If I put this down (or let it slide) for the next (boiling!) 48 hours, what would actually happen?”

Not “would I feel guilty?” Not “would someone potentially be mildly annoyed?” Not “would the perfectionist in me make me feel as if I’m “failing”

Because the answers to all of those could easily be a definite “yes.”

As in: what would actually happen?

Feeling on top of life (or at least not drowning at the bottom) doesn’t come from never dropping anything.

It comes from knowing what you can safely let bounce.

Please let something bounce today (and also, drink water).

L. x

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

If this resonated, my book of the same name goes deeper into modern life, what it’s doing to us and how to more easily navigate it – find out more here.

One of the reasons I walked away from fashion was because I was sick of peddling things that I knew we didn’t actually need (not to mention that 99.9% of people couldn’t afford).

I didn’t lose my love for the creativity that realm attracts and holds. I didn’t lose my respect and admiration for those who remain in the business. Nor did I lose any interest in the art and politics and thought that underpins the designers, writers and stylists who are truly incredible at what they do.

I just realised that I personally no longer wanted to be part of an industry that constantly makes women (primarily, yes, I know, men too, but also…) feel less-than – not thin enough, not pretty enough, not hot enough, not young enough – whilst simultaneously offering them the cure to those feelings: Buy our (expensive) stuff!

It’s a good business model - to make people feel shit about themselves and then sell them things to make them feel less shit about themselves. (This, of course, is not an original thought – Naomi Wolf’s The Beauty Myth being the trusted forerunner here.)

And on one (very thin, unstable) level, the model works.

A new pair of shoes or the perfect summer jacket can do about as much for my serotonin and dopamine levels as dropping a few pills on the dance floor of a warehouse rave once did.

But, it won’t last long, will it?

The comedown may not be as harsh, but what the fashion industry knows is that the shiny, newness will wear off, the chemical levels will reset, and the buyer will be back for more. The dark, deep hole of not quite loving (perhaps even hating?) yourself is, after all, insatiable. There is no end to low self worth: it is a bottomless pit that requires constant feeding.

Which brings us neatly onto wellness!

For over the past year (probably through the process of writing Prioritise This come to think of it) I’ve realised that, like all good addicts, I’ve simply replaced one compulsion with another.

I swapped a decade in one industry that tells people that they need a new bag to feel better about their life for a decade in another that tells us we need the latest protocol or routine or gadget to feel better about our life.

Wellness may have once started (and in some small (likely offline) pockets, still remains) as a genuine attempt to improve a life, to move someone from “unwell” to “well”, these days it is a thriving beast of a mega-industry that relies on real or perceived sickness or unhappiness for its survival. For it’s wealth.

Which, fyi, is huge. The global wellness economy is valued at an estimated $7.42 trillion and is projected to surpass $10 trillion by 2030.

My brain can’t really comprehend those numbers, beyond knowing that wellness thrives off the idea that we are not okay.

It thrives off the idea that we always need to feel better, and that normal experiences like sadness or insecurity (see: the bottomless pit), feeling run down or a bit exhausted or in any way anything other than great, are to be fixed. With a potion or a bottle or a mask or whatever else…

I’ve been thinking about this a lot the past week, first because of Steven Bartlett and his wine thing, and second because my algorithm, after a blissful week of nothing but deeply uplifting Arsenal content, is back with a vengeance telling me what the cool girls in Europe are wearing (extra ouch because surely I once was one!?) and why I need a particular kind of strappy sandals (the hard hitting journalist within me wonders: aren’t all sandals strappy!?) and of course, how I need to eat more protein (buy this shake!) sort out my exhaustion (buy this supplement!) and watch this influencer’s “wellness” routine that starts at 4.30am and seems to be mostly, in fact, about looking thinner and younger and hotter (“comment ‘My routine makes me morally superior to you’ under this post to be sent (affiliate!) links to the eye-wateringly expensive 59 products I swear by every day!”)

The commerce side of fashion is inextricably linked with the creative, and the same can be said of wellness today.

There is nothing wrong with seeking ‘wellness’ or wanting to feel better. (I want and seek both those things). It’s just worth considering that feeling ‘better’ or more ‘well’ is now tied (possibly forever) to purchasing. And of course wellness also plays the same game as fashion – capitalising on our limitless desire to look younger, thinner, hotter; creating and feeding off our insecurities and doubts. Sivananda, the yoga ‘guru’ whose lineage I’m trained in, always said: health is wealth. This couldn’t be more true. And yet, wealth is also health – most people can’t afford a quarter of the stuff that ‘wellness influencers’ are touting as “essential” to longevity or wellbeing.

I’m also, clearly, part of the problem.

I often talk about wellness products and gadgets I like, especially on socials but also on here. Including the ones that feed off our (my) insecurities. Sometimes I write about them in articles. Sometimes I talk on or host panels for their companies. I’m even an affiliate for one! If I like something and think it helps/works in some way I want others to know about it and try it too. Hell, I have a wellness product of my own! I am myself a tiny part of that number-defying industry.

AND.

From the inside, let me say that most of the things that genuinely make me feel better have little to do with the relentless pursuit of optimisation, and are not for sale.

You don’t need another gadget or supplement or tool to feel ‘well’.

If you want to buy something or try something then go for it.

A shiny new something is nice and sometimes a ‘thing’ genuinely can make a difference to how we feel in our body and mind.

Just also remember that wellness, like fashion, is an industry that thrives off you thinking that you are not enough.

You are.

L. x

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

If this resonated, my book of the same name goes deeper into modern life, what it’s doing to us and how to more easily navigate it – find out more here.

I just came back from a week away on my own. No family, no children, no friends, no responsibilities, no work. Just me and the unbearable weight of my mind (FUN!)

Something I pride myself on is having a good radar for the wellness industry. I know what I think is a scam and waste of time and money and what stands the test of time (and money). And honestly, I don’t take much of it too seriously anymore, having met enough “wellness” practitioners who (plot twist!) turned out to be terrifyingly unwell themselves.

The other thing I pride myself on (hubris much?) is believing I generally strike a healthy balance in my own life between “wellness” (or my interpretation of it, which may well be different to yours) and “giving zero fucks”.

I wake up early most days to meditate etc because I know it makes a difference to how I feel.

But if I don’t now and then, I’m okay with that.

I try to walk 8k steps most days.

But if one day a week I barely scrape 1k (essentially - office chair to kitchen on repeat) I’m okay with that too.

I exercise fairly often.

But if I miss a workout or two, I’m okay with that.

I track a few things.

But mostly I don’t (no oura ring or apple watch in sight), and I’m very okay with that.

Food, I won’t go into. Because, as someone with a complex history of eating disorders, I don’t think it’s helpful knowing what other people eat. (And still, WIEIAD videos blight my socials no matter how often I reset my algorithm…) Anyway, you get the point, as above - equanimity.

Yet as I lay on the beach reading Yesteryear (enjoyed, understand if you did not) and slowly turning my translucent blue-tinged skin to a very respectable shade of off-white, I also kept thinking about how I was spending my days. I had all this, rare, free time to myself… Was I making the most of it, in terms of “wellness”?

Was I doing enough yoga?

Was I walking/hiking enough?

Was I swimming in the sea enough? (did get stung by a jelly so that became less of a question) (was completely fine).

Was I sleeping enough? Should I be napping? I don’t really nap but surely that’s the kind of thing that would be “good for me”.

So many of my thoughts, when I wanted them to be little more than “lalalalalala sun, sea, sand” were around whether I was “optimising” my time and my self.

My husband was picking up the slack at home. Our nanny was working overtime. They had made sacrifices to their week so that I could have mine.

Not to mention, I needed a break. Turns out putting a book out into the world is a quite intense experience.

And yet, the question I kept asking myself was: am I making the most of this?

Reader, as I’m sure you know, there is no better way to suck an experience dry than by constantly questioning your own experience of it. Than by perpetually monitoring your ‘self’.

After the first couple of days, and some challenging, the thoughts quietened and I began to feel a little more in the experience of rest rather than observing the experience of rest.

However I kept thinking about this optimisation-monitoring loop. And how we are so used to observing other people’s lives through social media that we struggle to decouple our own lived (and living!) experiences from our thoughts of how it will be perceived from the outside. Treating life as material. Internalising, documenting, evaluating yourself in real time. The many “shoulds” swirling around our minds and feeds. Wellness as an identity, rather than something that actually keeps you “well”.

I have no answer.

Except to say that when I was away I found that listening, properly and completely and fully, to the tiny birds that flocked the palm trees and regularly flew down to steal bits of my meals, helped quieten my self-monitoring thoughts.

It’s not very impressive advice - listen to the birds - but, it worked.

Less self-monitoring, more birds.

L. x

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

If this resonated, my book of the same name goes deeper into modern life, what it’s doing to us and how to more easily navigate it – find out more here.

This Friday marks three years since my father passed.

If you’ve experienced the loss of someone close (which given the odds, likely you have), you may hard relate when I say that it feels like it’s been both much longer and much shorter than that.

Grief and loss warp time. It becomes stretchy and sticky and doesn’t behave like it normally does.

So much has changed in the past three years. And so little.

I’ve changed so much. And so little.

Nikki Osman, a hugely skilled and sensitive editor, recently commissioned me to write a piece for Women’s Health on the experience of losing my dad. I actually had the bulk of it ready years ago – I started writing it not long after he got sick. But it didn’t feel right to put it together in full until now – I needed those stretchy, sticky years, to reflect or absorb or something deep like that.

At the beginning of dad’s illness, when I was swirling in grief, I couldn’t find anything out there that made me feel seen. There was plenty about death and loss, but nothing that described what I was going through. I felt alone, even though I knew that many, many people had surely experienced (and were experiencing) the same.

That’s why I wrote it. To ensure that if someone searches this strange alternative internet world in the hope of feeling seen, then, unlike me, they’d find something offering them solace. And, in the few weeks the piece has been out, I’ve had many (heartbreaking) DMs telling me it had done just that. So, it seems to be serving its purpose (which, in a full circle moment, brings me solace).

Grief and loss are very different topics to what I normally focus on here – habits, procrastination and the like. But the way I approach all my work, including writing, is to hope that I’m helping others (maybe you?) feel seen, and fractionally less alone.

All we can aim for in this life right?

Piece in full below, if you’d like to have a read.

L. x

In October 2020, during a brief window between the lockdowns, I discovered I was pregnant with my second child.

Four days later, my father collapsed on our kitchen floor.

Growing up, my father wasn’t especially affectionate, but he was supportive. He’d sit for hours painting tiny models with my older brother, take my younger brother to the skate park every weekend, and, when I was a teenager, accompany me to the MAC counter at Selfridges – patiently reading a book while I tried on nude lipsticks and blue eyeshadows.

As an adult, our relationship had its peaks and troughs. But, when I became a mother, it softened. He loved being a grandfather and made me feel like he was always on my side – encouraging my parenting, empathising with the identity shifts and sleep deprivation.

Over weeks of hospital visits, scans and tests, the diagnosis trickled in: a tumour growing on his brain; yes it was cancerous; also inoperable; and, finally, incurable. Glioblastoma, Stage 4.

‘Don’t Google it,’ the doctors said.

I googled it constantly.

As anyone who’s had the misfortune of proximity to this diagnosis will know, life expectancy is short; chances of survival vanishingly small.

All the while, the baby grew inside me; the emotional pain and pregnancy symptoms becoming indistinguishable. Was my insomnia hormonal, or could my nervous system no longer settle? Was the bone-deep exhaustion because I was growing new life, or because I was losing one?

Life rearranged itself around his illness. Radiotherapy began, followed by chemotherapy – and, because of the steroids he was on, his belly grew along with mine. Every month, every week, every day, we steeled ourselves for the inevitable – my anticipatory grief only exacerbated by the guilt I felt of building a life while his drained away.

That Christmas we hosted for the first time. Normally my father (an exceptional cook) led the meal while I assisted. That year my partner and I cooked while my father lay on our sofa. I desperately wanted it to be perfect, assuming it would be his last.

Unable to sit with my mind, I abandoned my daily meditation practice, finding solace in sudoku and puzzles instead. Hypermobility (something that created complications in both my pregnancies) made walking and yoga impossible, removing two of my usual coping mechanisms. I had to find new tools.

I got a therapist, threw myself into work and tried to focus on the pure joy that our 18-month-old daughter brought to our days. At some point, I stopped telling myself I was overwhelmed; I didn’t deny the pain, nor minimise what we were facing. But I stopped giving it so much airtime.

Instead of spiralling about the next six months, I’d focus on the next appointment. I put limits on how often I could go down digital wormholes and saved my questions for those qualified to answer them. No small action fixed the pain; nothing could. But each one chipped away at my powerlessness – reminding me that even in a situation where I had no control, I still had some agency in how I moved through it.

In April 2021, the day Covid restrictions lifted, my partner and I got married. I was eight months pregnant, there were six guests and our daughter was a bridesmaid. As my dad gave a short speech, I felt relieved; he got to be here for this.

The following month, a week before my due date, I started having light contractions. Then my mum called.

I rushed to their home, where my dad was having seizures. By the time the ambulance took him away, the contractions had stopped; my body knew it wasn’t the right time.

Two weeks later, when we brought my son home, Dad was home, too. It wasn’t the first time he had defied doctor’s predictions, and it wouldn’t be the last.

He watched my daughter grow from toddler to little girl, and my son grow from baby (the one I never imagined he’d even meet) to toddler. I got to watch them walk hand in hand (both a little unsteady) to the coffee shop. I launched a new arm of my business. I was approached by a publisher to write a book, and while it didn’t work out then, at least I got to tell him. (Did later though :-))

A month before my son’s second birthday he finally slipped away.

In a way, his decline followed the trajectory we’d feared from the start. Dad deteriorated slowly, his illness reshaping our lives (especially my mother’s, who rarely left his side). And yet, I wouldn’t exchange the time we had for anything.

In honesty, when my father died, I felt relief. That night I slept more soundly than I had for years. My body felt un-curled. I didn’t need to worry that tomorrow might be the day my father would die. The worst had happened, I didn’t have to live in fear of it anymore.

In Judaism, funerals happen quickly. We decided not to have the children attend because I felt I wouldn’t be able to focus on the day – that was the right choice for us. It became a true celebration of his life. I spoke as did my brothers, we played his favourite music and I felt held by my partner and friends. We danced and drank and told stories. When the grief overwhelmed me, my husband walked me to Primrose Hill. We sat quietly until I felt ready to return to my own home, where I crawled into my children’s beds and held their warm, sleeping bodies tight.

In those early days the grief felt almost satisfying in its intensity. But as the weeks passed it crystalised and grew heavier as permeance set in. For a long time, I felt untethered – as if one of the anchors that held me to this life had gone. The children pulled me back into the present over and over again.

Almost three years on, I think of him daily. The bolts of grief strike less often, but still have the power to floor me; when I see a man his age playing with grandchildren, when I read a brilliant book and want to ask if he’s read it, when I began writing my own book – a path he walked many times as a writer – and want to ask him everything.

At home, we talk of Dad often; the kids support Arsenal in his honour and ask for The Clash or The Ramones because it’s ‘grandpa’s favourite’. Sometimes they cry and tell me they miss him, though neither of them can remember him now.

When my own grief comes, I try to let it. But it isn’t always easy; sometimes, it can feel like there isn’t space for it in the season of my life that I find myself in. Some of it has (compassionately) been put aside.

It’s the only way I can keep showing up to parenting, work and life in the way that I need to. I know I can’t postpone it indefinitely; but for now, it sits somewhere inside me, like an unpacked suitcase.

Losing a parent at this stage of life, in this way, isn’t something I would recommend. But it also felt deeply primal, a reminder of the circularity of life and death.

Like all seismic moments, it sharpened my understanding of what truly matters. When you lose a parent, you’re forced to grow into that space they once occupied. You’re no longer defined by that relationship in the same way and you have to define yourself and your priorities anew.

If you are grieving a parent right now (whether they are alive or gone) I see you. Go gentle on yourself – take what you need, don’t worry too much about the rest.

Share

I found a quote recently on that most reliable of profound, philosophical sources… Instagram.

It read: “Research shows we only need 3–5 close friends to have a happy social life. Your nervous system doesn’t crave popularity, it craves safety, resonance and connection. A small circle is sacred.”

I don’t agree.

(With the middle bit anyway.)

Your nervous system most definitely does crave popularity.

Which is the problem…

Evolution has bequeathed you a social brain, one that leads you to believe you need more from your “social” life than you actually do.

More friends, more plans, more invitations, more people in your orbit. MORE. We want everyone to like us, we want to feel included all the time.

(I am we.)

Yet, this so easily leads us to feel as if connection with others is something to manage or measure, as opposed to what it actually is: something to be nurtured, to enjoy.

Your nervous system may think it cares about being popular, but in reality all it needs is to feel safe. For most of us, the more “social” we are the safer we feel, because your brain seeks safety in numbers.

However, that safety in numbers thing doesn’t do jack shit if you don’t feel safe with those people. If you can’t be yourself around them, your brain won’t feel safe at all. It’ll be on high alert instead.

Ultimately, the relationships that really matter are the ones where there is little to no performance required – the ones where you don’t have to become some different (smarter, prettier, jazzier, cooler, more impressive) version of yourself to be accepted.

The ones that stay with you through the hard times.

The ones that see, respect and love you, for you.

Studies consistently show that high-quality relationships (of any kind) regulate the body and mind – and on a felt level we all know that any good friendship/relationship makes the heavier aspects of life that much lighter to hold and bear.

When your connections feel meaningful and nourishing and grounding, you waste less energy trying to keep up appearances or be someone you’re not. Which means you create more space for what matters (ie your priorities) whatever that might meant to you.

Plus, there is less unhelpful stress in your system, because you’re not constantly stretching yourself socially beyond what feels good…

This is not necessarily about having fewer people in your life.

It’s about prioritising deeper relationships and making sure they support your wellbeing and your ‘best’ self.

As always, size is irrelevant! How big your social circle is doesn’t shape your life, the safety, love and connection you feel within it does.

L. x

PS. Send this on to someone who brings all that to your life.

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

If this resonated, my book of the same name goes deeper into how to navigate the chaos of modern life – find out more here.

As a continuation from last week, I’ve taken the baggage idea and run it through a coaching session filter to help you put theory into action.

(FYI, This post was supposed to only be for paid subs, but I just tried it out for myself on something I’m struggling with and it was so quick and helpful I decided to send it out to you all!)

Anyway, 6 questions below, answers don’t need to be long - a few words will suffice (I’ve written it as if you can fill in blanks - if you’d rather print this page go for it).

1. Which of these are you still carrying right now?

☐ Resentment

☐ The need to be perfect

☐ Comparison

☐ People-pleasing

☐ Regret

☐ Fear of change

☐ Feeling “too late”

☐ Something else: ______________

2. The 1-2 things from above that feel heaviest are:

_________________________________________________________________________

3. How is this actually showing up in my life?

_________________________________________________________________________

4. What might change if I carried this a little less?

_________________________________________________________________________

5. If I wasn’t carrying it, what would I have more space for?

☐ Energy

☐ Calm

☐ Joy

☐ Clarity

☐ Something else: ______________

6. What’s one small way I could start letting this go?

_________________________________________________________________________

That’s it. If you answered truthfully, I imagine you (like me!) now have a pretty clear idea what your next steps need to be…

I’d love to hear how you get on.

Leave a comment

L. x

PS If you bought my book please pop a little review (good or bad) somewhere online. Thank you xx

I hope you all had a wonderful long weekend full of mini eggs. When you read this, I will be in a waterpark somewhere on the outskirts of Warsaw, trying (read: failing) to control my children. Will update.

But for now… it’s officially Spring (!)

Bloody finally.

A time of change and renewal. Of newness. Of shedding off the winter and welcoming in the longer days and opportunities to sit outside and feel warmth in your bones.

The perfect time to LET GO.

It’s not a novel thought, but the more you let go of the stuff that’s weighing you down, the more space you make for what lifts and lights you up.

Here’s a few ideas of what that might look like, feel free to add your own below.

1. Old Resentments

Holding onto resentment is like storing stuff you never use or wear or have any emotional attachment to, but still refuse to throw away. (Except also it’s worse because sometimes it actively negatively impacts you.) Letting go doesn’t mean condoning what happened, it just means giving yourself a break by freeing up your mind/heart from carrying it around all the time.

2. The Need to Be Perfect

You’re not perfect. You never will be. No-one is. Don’t let your constant inner critic leech all the joy. High standards = good. Expectations of perfection = bad. Remind yourself often of the difference.

3. Comparison

Comparison can be useful, but only when it’s used as a lens to help you see what’s important to you in life and how you can take more steps to get there. Constantly measuring your life against others and seeing how you match up, however, tends to just do harm. Your path will never look identical to anyone else’s, and nor should it.

4. People-Pleasing

Trying to keep everyone else comfortable and happy and settled and good often means abandoning your own needs in the process, which, over time, builds resentment and exhaustion. Nothing wrong with wanting to support and help others, just make sure you’re not doing it at the expense of yourself.

5. Regret

Regret is sticky and heavy and traps us in the past and a past version of our ‘self’. Learn the lessons you need to, then move on. Perpetual self-punishment doesn’t un-do the past and it’s not valuable for anyone involved.

6. Fear of Change

Change can be scary, but so is staying the same. Growth requires movement and energy and effort. Clinging too tightly to the familiar can prevent the very opportunities that you so desperately want and need from coming into your life.

7. The Belief That You’re “Too Late”

Fuck that. You’re not.

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

And if you enjoyed it, just IMAGINE how much you’ll enjoy my BOOK. A lot I would have thought… On sale now.

love,

L.x

Sitting next to me is my boss – the editor in chief of a key UK magazine – beside him, two other members of our team. We arrived from London on the Eurostar last night and leave tomorrow evening, and, in this time, won’t see much of the city.

It’s mostly the inside of boardrooms, interspersed with the inside of the sleek, black towncar that’s ferrying us between back-to-back meetings with the advertising clients that fund our publication. These guys are important; without them we would have no magazine at all.

This is our last meeting of the day and it’s with one of the biggest luxury fashion brands in the world. The women and men sitting across from us are doing it justice – it seems “must appear intimidatingly expensive” is the first pre-requisite on any job application to work here.

I feel scruffy in comparison and am a bit jittery from too much coffee But the meeting seems to be going well – they’ve agreed to advertise with us, which is great news. After all, if we lost advertisers, I’d probably lose my job. Not because my boss is horrible (he’s actually great), but because budgets are tight and my position as Features Director – the one I’d been working towards for the best part of a decade – would be first to go if cuts were required. So, in theory, I should be feeling happy.

And yet, I don’t.

Not about the fact that they are advertising – I’m thrilled for the magazine. I just don’t seem to care so much about my own place in all this anymore.

For my entire career I’d worked towards ‘editor’ or ‘editor in chief’ of a magazine. That had been my ultimate goal. But now, as that ambition began to look attainable, it no longer felt like what I wanted.

I loved my colleagues, my boss, the work itself and the creativity of the industry, but much like the too-tight, towering heels I’d watched the French PR hobble down her winding office stairs in, my job didn’t fit me. It did once, but not anymore…

A painful breakup had brought life into sharp focus; what mattered to me now at 32 was so different from when I’d started out at 23. I’d had enough of the perpetual stress, total exhaustion, competitive busyness and constant comparison (much of it, I must note, self-inflicted).

I was done with the travel, late nights, freebies, shows, openings, parties and the like (even though most of them were as much fun as they sound). I adored culture, fashion and art (still do!) but I didn’t want to peddle it anymore. And, while I’d recovered from the eating disorders and depression that had plagued my life for fifteen years, I could increasingly see that a job in the fashion-world, which prizes thinness above all else, was not the best place for me. My priorities had changed, I’d changed, it was time for a change.

So, I did what any normal person would do – bored my closest friends to death about wanting to leave for 18 months before actually doing it!

But, in that time I did prepare my exit… I’ve practiced yoga since my early teens, and an experience at an ashram in India in 2012 had helped me finally overcome my mental health struggles (FYI: not the only thing that helped, many things led to my recovery, medication and therapy among them) so I’d known for some time that I wanted to go back there to train as a yoga teacher myself.

In late 2016, my boss (thank you Rankin!) graciously gave me time off to do so, and that’s what set me on the path for what I do today...

After that first training I doubled down on the thought-repatterning and mindset aspects of yoga that had facilitated my own recovery, seeking out courses that offered more of the same. I became interested (read: obsessed) with answering the question: how can I better navigate the unbridled chaos that is modern life? I discovered coaching – immediately connecting with its forward-thinking approach, as well as how it aligned with and built upon the mindfulness and mindset trainings I’d already done. And then, not long after that, as the pandemic hit, I became convinced that priorities was the best framework for it all.

Almost 10 years since I completely changed my life.

Almost 10 years of gathering tools and models and thoughts to write this book.

And if you’ve ever had that feeling – that the life you’ve built no longer quite fits – this is exactly why I wrote it.

Because figuring out what truly matters to us, and having the clarity to act on it, isn’t something most of us are ever taught.

That’s what this book is for.

It’s everything I wish I’d had when I was sitting in that room in Paris. And everything I‘m glad I have now when I feel stressed or overwhelmed or frazzled by the reality of being a person trying to do their best in this world.

2 days to launch.

If you’d like to be one of the first to read it, you can order it here.

Thank you, as always, for being here. I’m so grateful.

Love,

Lil x

Hi all,

Hope you’re having a good start to the week. The (tiny) glimpses of Spring are giving me LIFE.

Today I thought I’d share with you a practice that we use in coaching to help someone better face failure when they encounter it (as we all do!)

In short, it encourages you to remember a failure that hasn’t actually negatively impacted your life in the long run. By doing this, you prime your brain to reframe the failure you’re currently facing, as well as fear failure less in the future and improve your mindset overall.

How it works:

• Bring to mind a time that you failed at something, but the consequences were not dire or impactful to your life. Perhaps they were even positive.

• Spend a minute thinking about that time.

• Get lost in your positive thoughts about how you navigated that failure and came out stronger or more aware of yourself or whatever other benefits you experienced – lessons the failure taught you or the unexpected directions it sent you in.

• Notice how you feel afterwards.

• Use this as motivation to help you overcome what’s happening now.

• Repeat as necessary.

Only takes about 2 minutes. If you give it a go, would love to hear how you get on.

Thanks for being part of this community,

Lil. x

Hello all,

It’s March, which means it’s Spring… at least possibly (not sure the weather has caught on yet.)

As keen readers will know, I like a good Spring clear out. I’m a firm believer that when we throw or re-home things we no longer need, it makes us feel lighter.

But what of our inner world?

Our minds collect clutter too: old worries, outdated beliefs, lingering resentments, thought patterns, all sorts of crazy (pretty fucked up!) stuff that no longer serves us. Over time these pile up too, taking up emotional space, weighing us down.

In evolutionary terms this makes sense, you stay alive by remembering what’s painful – eg a burn from a lit match leads you to avoid getting too close to fire when you encounter it in the future. Works brilliantly with matches, less so with our thoughts.

As a result, many of us cling to thoughts and beliefs from negative experiences (break ups, losses, trauma) long after we’ve made sense of the experience, learnt from and processed it. Not to mention the general, habitual thought patterns that we all accumulate through life – self-criticism, catastrophising and the rest.

In my experience, these aren’t thoughts that your brain will easily let go of on its own. For them, it needs a bit of help… Give the questions below a try.

8 QUESTIONS FOR A SPRING CLEAN OF YOUR HEART + HEAD:

• What thoughts do I keep replaying that no longer serve me?

• What emotional weight have I been carrying for too long?

• What belief about myself might be ready to change?

• What opinion about me that someone else holds am I ready to let go of?

• What part of my life feels stale or stuck?

• What qualities do I want to cultivate more of in my life this year?

• What would a kinder inner voice sound like?

• What priorities do I want to put at the forefront this year?

I know asking a few questions won’t instantly erase years of thought patterns.

However!

When we do question our thoughts, when we become more aware of them, shine a light on them to stop them festering in the dark or question their helpfulness and legitimacy, they begin to lose their strength.

That’s the aim here, to lessen their hold over you.

To recognise that, as with clothes, it’s possible to outgrow certain emotional patterns or thought processes that once fitted who you were at a particular stage of life. They may have served a purpose, but no longer do.

And so the ultimate question to ask becomes: does this still fit the person I am becoming?

love.

Lil x

P.S Two weeks (!!!) to publication. Link below, every single order is so very very much appreciated and also don’t forget to enter the competition.

Hi all,

Hope you’ve had a good weekend.

All details below for this month’s coaching call. We’ll be talking all things Spring cleaning the mind and holding each other accountable for what we need to LET go of :) Look forward to hopefully seeing you there.

Lil x

Prioritise This Group Coaching

Tuesday 31st March, 12.30-1pm

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/89796562287?pwd=egrgT7Pa74a24tA9BEUxCHsFbKWNIq.1

Hi all,

Hope you’ve had a good start to the week.

Just to mention, due to February being so short and me forgetting to send this out earlier (apologies!) our group coaching call for Feb will be next week, on March 3rd.

All details below, look forward to seeing you there.

Lil x

Prioritise This Group Coaching

Tuesday March 3rd, 9.30-10am

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/87605900504?pwd=MnpxSq85KCgamwguzNdUrzeX3D1T7s.1

The book arrives back from the printer this week.

We’re one month to release.

I’m nervous.

I know there is useful stuff in there. Stuff I wished I’d known about when I was younger, and stuff I’m glad to know about now – that I use on a daily basis to help me better navigate the external world and the world inside my mind.

I also know (having recorded the audio book a few weeks ago) there is stuff in there that makes me cringe. The publishers were keen I included lots of my own stories (for ‘relatability’). I appreciate this on an intellectual (and editorial) level, but am now slightly concerned it tips towards nauseatingly self-referential.

Maybe it’s fine and I’m just thought-spiralling. Or maybe not. Alas! There is nothing I can do now, except wait by my laptop for the reviews (hoping for some like these).

If you’d like to judge for yourself as to whether it’s helpful or cringey (or somewhere between the two), please pre-order it.

THANK YOU.

And, when you do, don’t forget to enter this competition to be in with the chance to win a coaching day with me at Soho House.

Here’s what’s included:

– Three hours of 1-2-1 coaching (designed entirely around you)

– Lunch together at a UK Soho House of your choice (FYI, if it has a pool we can swim/sauna)

– Your travel within England covered

– Two copies of my journal (one to pay it forward to a friend)

– A very generous goodie bag from one of my favourite wellness brands, Ancient + Brave

To enter all you need to do is pre-order Prioritise This from your preferred retailer, then send a screenshot of your confirmation to: prioritisethis@lilysilverton.com

That’s it.

If you’ve already ordered, you can of course still apply.

Winner will be shared week of the 30th March. Good luck!

Onto today’s topic: habits…

I’m a firm believer that most of us don’t need some full life overhaul to feel better.

We need sustainable changes that support our frayed nervous system and depleted energy, and fit in with the demands of our lives.

Here are seven I’d begin with if I wanted to feel better:

1. Start my day with intention.

Hands off your phone, a few conscious deep breaths, a nice cup of tea in the quiet, even if it’s only 5 minutes creating some kind of pocket of calm before the day crashes in helps the day go better.

2. Move my body in ways that feel supportive.

Could be strength training, yoga or a run. Could also be dancing to 90s Garage in your bedroom or stretching on the living room floor while you watch TV.

3. Pay attention to what actually drains me.

Yes work, of course, but also people, scrolling (!) unnecessary late nights, and general overstimulation. Awareness is the first step to protecting your energy.

4. Create one small boundary that makes life lighter.

Earlier nights? Fewer commitments? Less screen time? You don’t need to change everything to feel better, find the thing that makes the difference.

5. Prioritise connection over perfect “wellness”

Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is stay up late with friends, instead of sticking rigidly to your evening routine. Wellbeing is 360, never forget that.

6. Check in with myself daily.

How am I feeling? What do I need? What would support me today? Who do I need to stay away from? Takes less than a minute, makes a difference.

7. Choose progress.

Think: one small drop of water every day, rather than trying to fill the whole glass up in one go. F*ck perfect, just do what you can do, with what you’ve got, and then keep doing it. Consistency wins over intensity every time.

Any more to add of your own? I’d love to hear them.

Leave a comment

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

Please press the ❤️ if you enjoyed this edition, it does help the Substack powers-that-be with their little algorithm.

L.x

If it could stop raining here in London that would be helpful, for all our sanity.

I don’t normally notice the ‘winter’ weather as much as I know some people do, but the perpetual shower of 2026 has not passed me by. That being said… It doesn’t get dark until 5.05pm today, so clearly, we’re on the up!

Anyway, enough about the weather.

This tool is something I use myself ALL the time. Particularly when I’m feeling overwhelmed by my To-do list, or as if I’m not quite getting on with what I actually need to be doing.

It’s called the The ABC method, and was developed by Alan Lakein, author of the book below, which I’m including a pic of because I think the cover is 10/10.

I also think the method is 10/10, because it’s easy and simple (and also it involves prioritising, which as you know, I’m a *little* obsessed with.)

Here’s what you need to do:

• Take a look at all of your tasks/projects for the day and/or week.

• Write them down somewhere using either paper, a Word document or a digital tool like Asana.

• Categorise your most important, urgent, highest-priority tasks or items under A.

• Categorise your tasks that need to be completed soon but aren’t urgent or the highest priority under B.

• Finally, pop the least important things (your lowest-level priorities) under C.

• Then, work through your day or week prioritising everything in category A followed by B and finally C.

That’s it.

I promise it’ll help you get started and sort through the overwhelm (unless you leave everything in column A, so… please don’t do that!)

If you try it out, I’d love to hear how you get on?

Leave a comment

Lil x

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

Please press the ❤️ if you enjoyed this edition, it does help the Substack powers-that-be with their little algorithm.

L.x

I hope you’ve had a good start to the year. Clearly it’s mind boggling it’s February, but that does mean only one month 'til March, which is cool for those of us who like daylight.

So, mostly, when I write these newsletters, I have an objective - I want to share, for example, the most effective approaches for combatting procrastination when you have a million things you need to do or some proven ways to lower cortisol when you’re feeling blitzed.

Today, I have no such plan.

Instead, I’m simply going to tell you about the things I’ve been prioritising this past week. Apologies in advance, I will ramble.

Rest

Fuck me, January hit hard.

Every year, I find myself unable to understand why this month – cold, dark, wet (did it ever stop raining?), long – of all the months in the year also tends to be one of the busiest and most demanding for us all.

So many emails, so many plans, so much movement, so many respiratory illnesses from kids’ schools. While I saw a lot of ‘soft January’ posts on socials (+ even in trad media), honestly, for everyone I know, there appeared to be nothing soft about their January; it resembled something more hard and spiky, possibly relentless.

For obvious new-year-new-me reasons, January is always full for me work-wise, and for that I feel both honoured to support people and grateful that they think of me. Likewise, there was a lot to do because the book went to print on the 26th (!), which I have to remind myself between bouts of pure fear/nerves is something I have wanted to be able to say for my entire adult life. Again, gratitude.

However, also (tiny violin), like everyone else, I was spent by the end of the month.

Which didn’t bode well as, in the final few days, I was due to record the audiobook of Prioritise This.

Yet, thanks to either one of the nasty colds brought home from school or a psychosomatic play on my part, I lost my voice.

(And yes, I was secretly a little pleased.)

It seemed like a very clear sign I needed rest.

So, instead of staying home, where I would be tempted by things like caring for my children, I was incredibly fortunate to be able to take myself off to Soho Farmhouse for a few days.

I spent the first day working and got in a meeting about upcoming events, but after that all I did for almost 48 hours was walk, watch Heated Rivalry (yikes), read Butter (long, excellent), meditate, eat cookies, swim, and so on. It was the rest and reset I so desperately needed and though I came back still without much of a voice, I do feel like myself again.

ON THAT NOTE… SPEND THE DAY WITH ME!

While there, I decided I want to offer one of my community a similar rest and reset in their own life. So, I’m offering you the chance to win a private in-person coaching day with me this Spring at any Soho House in the UK.

Here’s what’s included:

– Three hours of 1-2-1 coaching (designed entirely around you)

– Lunch together at Soho House of your choosing (FYI, if it has a pool we can include a swim/sauna)

– Your travel within England covered

– Two copies of my journal (one to pay it forward to a friend)

– A goodie bag filled with my favourite wellness brands

Since I don’t actually offer any 1-2-1 coaching anymore (except for pro bono work) this is kind of a ‘money can’t buy’ thing…

To enter all you need to do is pre-order Prioritise This from your preferred retailer and then send a screenshot of your order confirmation (make sure it contains your name) to: prioritisethis@lilysilverton.com

That’s it.

If you’ve already pre-ordered, you can of course still apply. Winner will be shared week of the 30th March. Good luck!

PADEL

While at Farmhouse I played padel for the first time and while I recognise that a) playing it at soho house is a damp cliche and b) I am late to the trend, I am nonetheless kinda hooked.

I played quite a bit of tennis until around 15, (side note: realising that’s nearly 30 years ago nearly killed me), and padel, as a slightly easier and more fun/social version, ticks a few boxes of what I think makes life better.

Would love to hear from anyone who already plays it regularly, any tips or recommendations, especially for good North/West London spaces to play?

CATS

Guys. I don’t like cats.

Sorry, I just don’t. I think cats are mean and unpredictable.

And they never like me. I am one hunded million percent a dog person.

However, since I am also nothing if not inconsistent, lately I have been thinking that getting a cat could be a good idea!?

My piano teacher’s cat is having kittens and his cat is so lovely so I’m wondering whether adopting one will satiate mine and the children’s thirst for a dog (which just isn’t feasible right now).

Cats are easier than dogs right? Will a cat bring joy and comfort to my days, or will it just hate me? Thoughts and opinions very welcome.

(Except from you Dan – my husband – who’s already said it’s a bad idea.)

Thank you for reading Prioritise This!

Please press the ❤️ if you enjoyed this edition, it does help the Substack powers-that-be with their little algorithm.

L.x

For anyone keen enough to notice this is coming to you a day late, apologies. The book (please pre-order it, thank you, I appreciate you) goes to print tomorrow (!) so there’s been a lot to do…

A short one from me this week.

Two downloadable PDFs. Each one I think helpful for the ‘How can I sort my life out a bit?’ energy still floating around at this point in the month.

1. A Bucketlist. I did this last year too. Download, print it off and then, instead of trying to do a million things, simply note down one thing you’d like to achieve each month. If you’re a regular reader of this newsletter, you’ll know I use the word ‘achieve’ with a pinch of salt – the goal of ‘saying no to my stressful boss’ is an achievement I recommend striving for over ‘run 5k ‘ every time. And, please remember, remain kind and flexible – if life changes you may need to change with it and that means some months won’t get ticked. That is normal, expected and okay. Just do what you can with what you’ve got.

   

   Tpm Bucketlist 2026

   73.7KB ∙ PDF file

   Download

   Download

2. A weekly planner. I made this for my own family and it’s now permanently stuck on the fridge to help us stay on top (ish) of the chaos. You may already have a fancier version of this, possibly even a digital one, but this works for me as it doesn’t make me feel too intimidated by my own organisational tools… Hit download below to try it for yourself.

Pt Weekly Planner

29.9KB ∙ PDF file

Download

Download

If you try either of them out I’d love to hear how you get on.

Finally, I’m hosting a panel talk on the future of health and wellbeing in 2026 on Monday night (26th) 7-9pm at White City House (in London)… We have some brilliant panel guests and it should be an interesting and thought-provoking night. I have 3 spots on my guestlist, first come first served so if you’d like one hit reply. P.s PLEASE only take it if you know you can definitely make it.

L. x

Hello all.

Most of us (myself included) rush into the new year, without noticing that our time, attention and energy (aka our most precious resources!) are already being spent in very particular (not always helpful) ways.

Whether it’s intentional or not, we’re always prioritising something.

And ultimately, what we prioritise becomes the sum of our life…

With that (slightly sobering) thought in mind, I’ve noted down a few questions I think can be useful to ask around this time of year.

Whether you’ve set goals or would just like to feel more aligned with your priorities, they’ll help you sort the wheat from the chaff in your life for 2026, and beyond.

Ask yourself:

1. If someone followed me around for a few weeks, would they be able to tell what my priorities are?

2. What feels important to me in theory, but isn’t currently reflected in how I spend my time?

3. What decision would simplify my life the most right now, even if it feels uncomfortable at first?

4. What am I currently treating as important or urgent that doesn’t actually deserve that much attention?

5. If I could only make one part of my life easier this year, which part would give me the biggest return?

6. What do I need to protect in my week for everything else to work better?

7. At the end of this year, what do I want to be able to say I deliberately chose?

The questions aren’t here to judge you or push you into some extreme life overhaul.

They’re just a way to help you notice what’s currently filling your days, and make a few decisions about what you actually want from your life, before the year races away and suddenly it’s Christmas again and you don’t know where 2026 went…

You don’t need to answer them perfectly nor do you need to action every response.

It’s just an invitation for you to have a think.

AND, we’ll actually be running through them during tomorrow’s coaching call, so if you’d prefer to do them with me instead, join us. As a reminder it’s from 12.30-1pm and here’s the zoom link:

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/85146771962?pwd=I7dU4ErFZbz1nHLYHMIbI6mCOalhfd.1

Maybe see you there. If not, and if you do try them, I’m always keen to hear how you get on.

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L. x