This month's theme is all about your voice. I had a whole newsletter planned about the throat, about swallowed words and calling your power back. And then, as so often happens when I sit down to write, something else came out instead. I've decided to trust it.

Here it is.

Somewhere along the way we became far more interested in what Sandra in Melbourne had for her lunch than in having a proper conversation with the person who lives next door. We can tell you what a stranger on the other side of the world thinks about almost anything, and yet many of us couldn't tell you the name of the family three doors down.

We are not built for this. As a species we evolved to live in small communities, with our attention held within a small radius of where we sleep at night. Our nervous systems were designed for a village, not for a constant stream of news, opinions and other people's highlight reels from every corner of the planet. No wonder so many of us feel overwhelmed, anxious and strangely lonely while being more "connected" than ever.

For so many people, social media has become a kind of god. A pedestal we look up to, measure ourselves against and feed with hours of our attention. And yes, I'm aware of the irony. I use it too, to share what I offer and to reach people who might need support, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But I can see what it has cost us: the in-person, community-focused gatherings where people actually look one another in the eye.

And it isn't only our sense of community we have lost. So many of us have lost our self worth too, our belief in ourselves, because we can see what everyone else is doing. We measure ourselves against people we follow, without knowing their story. We don't really know them at all. We see the highlight, never the whole.

So I want to ask you something. How would you see yourself if you had no idea what people on the internet were up to? What kind of parent would you think you are? What kind of business would you think you have created? What kind of home would you think you have? Who would you be if you stopped placing yourself against other people?

Comparison quietens our voice. It keeps us small, scrolling and separate, when what we really need is each other.

So what if we gave ourselves the chance to use our voices without judging how they should sound, based on what everyone else is doing? What would you say? What would you create? And where would you allow yourself simply to be, resting in the silence and completely okay with not saying anything at all?

Because finding your voice isn't always about speaking more. Sometimes it's knowing you don't have to fill every space, post every thought or have an opinion on everything. Silence that is chosen is very different from silence that is swallowed. One comes from fear. The other comes from peace.

Speaking to people. Really speaking to them.

So while my theme this month is Your Voice, the bigger picture is this: how are we going to come back together as a community? What can we do today, not someday, to bring people together? And how can we use our voices within our communities, voices that are positive, supportive and kind?

Because your voice isn't only for speaking up for yourself. It's for saying good morning. It's for asking how someone is and waiting for the real answer. It's for the small, ordinary words that turn a street of houses into a neighbourhood.

So I'm going to start with me.

Join me for free Stomps

Stomps are free, phone-free community walks. A time to gather, young and old. A time to come together, breathe some fresh air and talk to one another the old-fashioned way. No cost, no pressure, and no need to be fit, sporty or chatty. Just come as you are.

Bring a friend, a neighbour, your mum, your teenager, your dog. Bring the person you've been meaning to catch up with for months. Or come on your own and leave with a few new faces you'll recognise in town next week.

I would love to see you there.

With love, Caroline

P.S. If you have a few minutes this week, try one small thing: speak to someone you'd normally just nod at. That's your voice, being used exactly as it was meant to be.