The Frequency We Carry

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about energy. About frequency. About the quiet, invisible things we carry with us wherever we go.

We all bring a certain energy into a room — whether we’re aware of it or not. And just as easily, we pick up on the energy of others. It’s subtle, but once you start noticing it, you see it everywhere.

Today was a perfect example.

I was at the store, and as is often the case, I was stressed. My mind was racing through lists and logistics and all the invisible weight that comes with running a small retail business. Kim was also stressed — we both were — but she came in carrying something else too. She noticed I hadn’t eaten. She didn’t make a big deal of it. She just quietly went out and came back with soup. That simple act shifted the entire tone of the day. Her care, her steadiness, her kindness — it was contagious. The energy in the room changed.

And then there was Alex.

Alex has been juggling a lot. She’s been coming in at 7 a.m. every day so she can leave in time to be home with her family and make dinner. That’s not easy. And yet today, as we sorted through the very real chaos that comes with running a retail business, she was all smiles. Calm. Present. Positive. Again — the room shifted.

I’m sure you’ve experienced this too. That moment when someone enters a space and everything feels different. Lighter. Heavier. More focused. More tense. We feel it before we ever name it.

What I’m learning — slowly, imperfectly — is that the energy I’m most able to share with others shows up when I’ve filled my own cup first. And sometimes filling my cup doesn’t look like rest or retreat. Sometimes it looks like play.

For me, that often means spending a little extra time in my closet. Pairing fabrics. Mixing colours. Letting myself be curious instead of productive. Creating small moments of beauty just for myself. And then, throughout the day, when things feel hard or overwhelming, I catch a glimpse of those pieces and remember: joy can be quiet. Strength can be soft. Beauty can be grounding.

Those moments become little anchors.

Little glimmers.

Call it energy. Call it frequency. Call it whatever you want. But those small, almost imperceptible shifts are often what carry us through difficult days. Not the big gestures. Not the grand solutions. Just the steady exchange of care, presence, and intention — moving through a space, touching everything it encounters.

And maybe that’s the quiet reminder here:

We’re always transmitting something.

The question is — what frequency are we choosing to tune into today?