I recently came across the “rubber and glass ball” theory, and it stopped me in my tracks.

Perhaps you’ve heard a version of it too.

The idea is beautifully simple.

Life is like juggling a collection of balls. Some are made of rubber. Others are made of glass.

The rubber balls are the things that feel urgent. Work. Emails. Deadlines. Meetings. The overflowing laundry basket. The WhatsApp group that’s never quiet. The endless list of jobs that somehow grows while you’re ticking things off.

Drop a rubber ball and, sooner or later, it bounces back.

You might miss a deadline. The email can wait until tomorrow. The house may remain untidy for another day. It may not be ideal, but life carries on.

Glass is different.

Our children are glass.

Our partners are glass.

Our closest friendships, our ageing parents, our physical health, our emotional wellbeing, our own nervous systems… they are all glass.

Time is glass.

Presence is glass.

When we drop these, they don’t simply bounce back. Sometimes they chip. Sometimes they crack. Sometimes they break so quietly that we barely notice until the distance between us feels impossible to explain.

As a mother of two young boys and someone privileged to work in two deeply meaningful professions, I feel this tension almost every day.

Like many people, I know what it is to carry responsibility with pride. I love my work. I care deeply about the people I support. But I’ve also learned that being constantly productive isn’t the same as being fully present.

And perhaps nowhere is that more evident than during the school holidays.

For many parents, the holidays bring mixed emotions. There is joy, excitement and the chance to make memories. There is also pressure. Pressure to keep everyone entertained, to continue working, to manage childcare, to hold the family together while quietly neglecting ourselves.

The irony is that while children often remember the moments we simply sat with them, laughed together or listened without distraction, we can become consumed by trying to achieve everything else.

As a counsellor, I often meet people who arrive in therapy feeling exhausted, disconnected or guilty that they never seem to have enough time.

Time isn’t always the problem.

Sometimes it’s where our attention has been invested.

The rubber balls are loud.

They demand immediate action.

The glass balls rarely shout.

Our relationships don’t send calendar reminders asking us to connect.

Our nervous system doesn’t always announce that it’s becoming overwhelmed until anxiety, burnout or emotional exhaustion have already taken hold.

Our own needs often become the quietest voice in the room.

This school holiday, perhaps the invitation isn’t to do more.

Perhaps it’s to notice.

What are your rubber balls?

What are your glass balls?

Have you been treating your own wellbeing as though it’s made of rubber—believing you’ll always bounce back after another late night, another missed lunch, another week of pushing through?

Maybe your own mental health belongs in the glass category too.

Therapy often isn’t about fixing what’s broken.

It’s about noticing the tiny cracks before they become fractures.

It’s about learning to pause before life decides to stop us.

It’s about remembering that caring for yourself isn’t taking time away from the people you love—it’s one of the greatest gifts you can give them.

This school holiday, the washing can probably wait.

The inbox will still be there tomorrow.

But a walk with your child.

A quiet coffee with your partner.

A phone call to a friend.

Half an hour with a good book.

Or simply giving yourself permission to breathe…

Those moments are often the ones that shape a life.

So today, ask yourself one simple question:

Am I spending my precious time protecting the glass, or am I exhausting myself chasing the rubber?

If you’ve found yourself feeling overwhelmed, emotionally exhausted or disconnected from the life you want to be living, counselling can provide a space to slow down, reflect and reconnect with what matters most.