When Your Body Forces You to Slow Down

Admitting the level of sick I’m dealing with right now has been a pretty hard pill to swallow.

Not because I don’t know what’s happening in my body, but because I’m my own harshest critic.

I’ve always had this mindset that my health conditions will never define me. I don’t give them energy. I don’t let them win. I keep moving, I keep pushing, I keep showing up.

But if I’m being completely honest lately it’s been kicking my ass.

There are moments in a healing journey where the body simply refuses to be ignored anymore. Where pushing through isn’t strength, it’s survival mode. And lately, my body has been very clear that it needs something different from me.

This week was one of those weeks where I had to dig deeper than usual just to show up.

I started the week doing something that means the world to me taking my grandson to school. Those little moments together are everything. After that I made my way to the pool for 30 minutes of water walking. Something that may seem small to others, but when your body feels like it’s constantly fighting itself, those 30 minutes take strength, determination, and a whole lot of willpower.

Afterwards I spent some time grounding myself before mirimiri, allowing myself to slow down and reconnect.

And I ended the week with something really special a meditation and sound healing journey. It was an incredible experience, and for the first time in my life I heard a didgeridoo played live. The vibration of that sound was something I felt, not just heard.

But the biggest shift this week wasn’t the things I did.

It was the truth I had to admit to myself.

My body is not okay right now.

I’m still navigating Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), triggers, flare-ups, and days where I’m honestly not very well at all. And sometimes that means life needs to move slower than I would like.

Slower mornings.
More time in my own space.
More time focusing on self-healing.

And for someone who has spent years pushing forward no matter what, that’s not an easy thing to accept.

But here’s what I’m learning.

Slowing down isn’t weakness.

It’s listening.

This next chapter of my journey is going to require me to go deeper into my healing than I ever have before. Over the next three months I’ll be doing some serious inner work, bringing trauma to the surface, and allowing my body the space it needs to process things that have been stored for far too long.

Quite frankly, everything else can wait.

My healing has to come first.

Even though life feels heavy right now, there are still beautiful things unfolding.

I have some amazing new things coming, including my very own classes that are starting to come to life. Being supported to bring these into the world means more to me than I can put into words.

So, while this chapter may feel difficult, I know it’s not forever.

This is simply part of my story.

One thing I always make sure I do, no matter how hard things feel, is look for the glimmers.

Those small moments of beauty that remind me life is still happening all around me.

This week my glimmers were simple but powerful:

Time with my grandson.
Watching some incredible sunsets.
Catching a sunrise I almost missed.
Seeing the sky filled with wild cloud formations.
And taking a quiet moment to ground myself near the water.

Because even in the hardest seasons, there is still beauty if we allow ourselves to notice it.

Healing is not a straight line.

It’s messy.
It’s confronting.
It’s exhausting.

But it’s also one of the bravest things a person can choose to do.

And right now, that’s the path I’m walking.

The hardest part of healing isn’t the pain.

It’s accepting that sometimes the strongest thing you can do…
is slow down and listen to your body.