Finding My Way Back #3: Healing in Familiar Corners

In my earlier posts in this series, Finding My Way Back and Finding My Way Back #2: Between The Pages, I spoke about new beginnings, new spaces, new experiences, and reconnecting with my hobbies. In the midst of all that excitement of discovering and rediscovering joy, life has now asked me to slow down.

A few months ago, I had what seemed like a minor fall that sprained my ankle. One thing led to another, and the injury aggravated slightly, leaving me unable to walk painlessly for more than a few minutes. To heal and recover, I am now back in my hometown, a place that feels like a warm, comforting hug.

Having always been a physically active person, struggling to walk even short distances has left me feeling quite low. The feeling of being tied down is no fun, and it has quietly taken a toll on my mood and energy levels.

Spending most of my days in bed has given me ample time to introspect. And in doing so, I have realized that sometimes, progress is found in stillness, in letting the body rest, in not always being on your toes, and in not rushing to get things done. It’s funny how hard it can be to remain still and simply not do much. I despise doing nothing; I find ways to stay busy despite my mind telling me to rest. It does get frustrating at times.

I crave to push forward, to feel the joy of progress. But as much as I try, I know I would end up in more pain. The body has its own way of dealing with things, and pain has its own way of teaching patience. I’m learning to allow myself to heal without guilt. I’ve realised that it is not a sign of weakness, but of strength. A strong resolve to trust the process and to remember that rest, too, is a form of growth.

In these slower days, I am trying to find pockets of joy, be it waking up when my body feels ready, savouring maa ke haath ka khaana, friends visiting home and endlessly gossiping, my two-year-old nephew dropping by (bundle of cuteness!!) and listening to his baby talks and watching his adorable antics, or reading a few pages of a novel. Each of these feels like an act of self-love, reminding me that it is okay to rest and recover.

Returning to my first home, to a space that holds so many memories, has reminded me that healing is layered. Physical recovery matters for sure, but so does emotional rest.

Change is constant, but in familiar spaces, I am finding a rhythm to refresh, restore, and gently come back to myself.

Here’s to slowing down, to giving time to the body and soul, and to healing where the heart already feels at home.

Until next time, stay blessed.

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