First Nations people have never been without ways of caring for ourselves, our families and communities. We have ancient, adaptive and ongoing cultural, emotional and spiritual practices shaped by land, lore Country and survival.

To help you build on these practices, here five non-exhaustive tips from Mbabrum women, qualified Counsellor and Coach, and Founder of Blak Wattle Coaching and Consulting, Caroline Kell.

Like Country, we move in cycles, waves, and seasons of feelings..

Colonial violence and racism do not just happen “out there.” They travel through our bodies, our nervous systems, and our relationships. The emotions that arise, grief, anger/rage, fear, numbness, are not failures or flaws. They are invitations to listen.

If your spirit feels resourced, allow yourself to sit with what is present rather than rushing to minimise or bypass it. This is not about pushing yourself into pain, it's about listening, with care, to what your body and spirit are already communicating.

I remember naming my anxiety “Carl” a few years ago. It helped me befriend what was there, rather than resisting or avoiding it. Moving toward our feelings, at our own pace, can create space for simply, what is…

You might gently ask:

·   What is alive in me right now?

·   Where do I feel this in my body?

·   What does this feeling need in this moment?

·   Who or what could help me carry this, even a little?

·   What has supported me through moments like this before?

Care is collective. We are not meant to hold everything on our own.

At different times, emotions can feel heavier, especially in the face of racial violence. If you notice shifts in your mood, relationships, sleep, appetite, or capacity for joy, reaching out for support can help. There is no shame in seeking counseling, its a powerful and necessary act.

Sometimes, support doesn’t have to start with a service. It can begin by thinking about one safe person, someone you trust, someone who knows you, someone you feel a little more like yourself with. Reaching out might look like a message, a call, or simply letting them know you’re having a hard day and need help, or someone to listen. You don’t have to explain everything. You don’t have to have the right words…

You can contact:

-   13YARN — 13 92 76
Available 24/7, 13YARN is a free crisis support line for mob who are feeling overwhelmed or having difficulty coping. You can speak with a trained Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander crisis support worker at any time.

-   VAHS – Yarning Safe & Strong — (03) 9419 3000
Culturally safe social and emotional wellbeing support for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people living in Victoria.

Or you can use:

-   iBobbly App. A social and emotional wellbeing self-help app for young Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples aged 15 years and over. Completely private and confidential, it helps by showing you ways to manage your thoughts and feelings, as well as how to decide what is important in your life. You can access this via your app store.

Colonial systems function by lessening, othering, and dehumanising us. They isolate us from each other, from Country, from our bodies, and from rest. Reconnection is not incidental; it is a practice of survival.

In a world shaped by neocolonial values that prioritise productivity and performance, we are often taught to overlook the quiet, ordinary things that actually sustain us. Yet it is these small, familiar acts of care that help us come back into relationship with ourselves /each other.

Rather than rigid routines, return to a few supportive rhythms. Gentke practices that help your body and nervous system feel steadier. 

When things feel overwhelming, this might look like a glass of water, a good song, a cry, stepping outside or being on Country, a short walk, a phone call to someone you trust, an Elder, or a cuddle.

These moments may seem simple, but they are deeply regulating. Care does not need to be grand to be meaningful. Small, repeated acts of nourishment are enough.

Connection does not always look like action, sometimes it looks like pausing.

Staying connected online can feel necessary, especially when so much organising, storytelling, and community care happens there. And at the same time, its a place where colonial violence, racism, and misinformation circulate, constant exposure can be exhausting and triggering. Both can be true.

Setting boundaries with social media is not always easy. Many of us have been taught to prioritise access, responsiveness, being on. Choosing to step back - even a little—can bring up guilt, FOMO, or not feeling connected to the cause/movement.

Boundaries are not always rigid, and they don’t have to all-or-nothing. They might look like being more intentional about when you check in, muting or unfollowing accounts that feel unsafe or overwhelming, or taking a short break from apps altogether. You can always return when you feel more resourced.

This isn’t about disengaging from the struggle. It’s about protecting your energy so you can continue to be in relationship with self, kin and community.

You are not alone. You are connected to ancient bloodlines — old, enduring, and ongoing. Breathe that in. You are held by something bigger than you.

The power of collective love, lore, resistance, and survival moves through you. Sometimes I place a hand on my belly, breathe in, and remind myself: I am held by something bigger than me.

As January 26 approaches, remember your choice and your agency. You do not have to carry this weight alone. There are many ways to honour what this day holds, and it is okay — important, even — to intentionally seek out people, places, and spaces that respect, honour, and celebrate you.