October 5, 2026
Everywhere in the self-help world, we’re told to focus on our priorities, build a life around our values, and say no to what doesn’t matter.
If you’re anything like me, just reading that can leave you feeling more overwhelmed, not less, because it’s rarely clear what that looks like. How do you know what to prioritise? How do you find what matters, or who matters? And what on earth are your values?
Part of the reason these questions are so hard to answer is the world we live in. We’re inundated with information: experts, influencers and well-meaning professionals telling us what we should care about. With so many voices outside us, it’s hard to hear our own.
For some of us, it goes deeper. Somewhere along the way, we were handed a template for how to live: work hard, be good, keep the peace, put others first. We took it on without question and built our lives around it. Of course we did. It’s how we belonged, how we stayed loved and safe. There’s nothing wrong with any of it, or with you. But you might find you’re living a life that was designed for you, not by you.
And that’s worth getting curious about.
If you are, there’s a way to explore it, and it’s simpler than you might think. It’s called discernment: the practice of sensing what’s truly yours. And the instrument for it is one you already have. Your body.
What is discernment?
The word comes from the Latin discernere, meaning “to separate” or “to sift”. In everyday life, discernment is how we sort through competing desires, opportunities and expectations to find what’s truly ours. It helps us recognise our core values, and from there, our priorities.
There’s a story about this that goes back five hundred years.
In 1521, a young Spanish soldier named Ignatius of Loyola had his leg shattered by a cannonball. Stuck in bed for months, he asked for something to pass the time: adventure stories full of knights and romance. Unfortunately for him, the only books in the house were about the lives of saints.
As the weeks passed, Ignatius began to wonder what his future might hold. When he daydreamed about heroic deeds for a noblewoman, he felt excited at first, but was left feeling sad and empty afterwards. When he imagined living a life of purpose, like the saints he was reading about, he felt deep, lasting joy and peace.
He didn’t think his way to an answer. He noticed how each option left him feeling, and that noticing changed the course of his life. Ignatius went on to found the Jesuits and to teach others the same practice: pay attention to what brings you alive, and to what leaves you hollow. This became the heart of Ignatian discernment: noticing your feelings rather than ignoring them.
Thankfully, you don’t need a cannonball to begin. Your body is already giving you these signals every day.
How your body says yes, and how it says no
Your body is constantly responding to the choices in front of you. The skill is learning to notice it.
Try it now. Think of something you’ve been asked to do this week. Imagine saying yes. What happens in your body?
Does your chest open, or does something tighten?
Does your breath deepen and slow, or catch and go shallow?
Does your body soften, or brace and tense?
Is there a spark of energy, or a sudden tiredness?
Do you find yourself leaning in, or pulling back?
Is there warmth and aliveness, or do you go cold, flat or numb?
Is there a sense of relief, or a lingering unease?
A heavy or tight feeling doesn’t always mean no. Sometimes it means I want this, and wanting this feels unsafe. This is especially true if you learned early on to put others first. Wanting something for yourself can bring a lift, quickly followed by guilt or fear. That’s not a sign to stop. It’s a sign to get curious.
And if neither option feels light, notice which one feels less heavy. Discernment isn’t about getting it perfect. It’s about getting to know yourself, one choice at a time.
When it’s harder to feel
If you try this and find it hard to feel much at all, you’re not alone. Many of us live mostly in our heads, only noticing our bodies when they’re shouting at us through pain, exhaustion or illness. Listening to the quieter signals is a skill, and like any skill, it grows with practice.
For some, it’s harder still. Trauma can leave us disconnected from our bodies as a way of coping. That connection needs to be rebuilt gently, in a safe environment, and that’s the work I do. If you’d like support with it, I’d love to hear from you.
Back to basics
For years, I tried to work out what mattered with my head. I was shaped by my family’s values, the culture I grew up in, my friends, and the people whose lives I admired. I ended up with values that conflicted with each other, and the more I thought about it, the more confused I became.
Discernment brings it back to basics. Each time you notice how your body responds, you learn a little more about what you care about. Over time, your true values will start to emerge.
Your body will also tell you something your mind often overlooks: what you have the capacity to care about right now.
The more you practise, the better it gets. I feel more secure in my decisions, more confident in living by my values, and my days have more shape. Most of all, it’s brought a sense of play back into my life. It is fun to discover more about yourself, and to find connection with people who share your values.
