reminders for healing
10 options for recovering an injured body or a broken heart
Welcome to every thing changes, a newsletter with tools to help guide you through non-linear journeys. I’m Aja. By day I’m deep in environmental work. By night I coach, read tarot, and am training to be a psychedelics facilitator because the world needs more different kinds of people who can hold space for hard stuff.
This is a post about recovery.
I’m mending from the biggest surgery I’ve ever had.
I was overjoyed to get the pathology back from my hysterectomy. No cancer, but LITERALLY all of the lady ailments. Fibroids, endometriosis, adenomyosis, big ovarian cysts. I feel so fucking validated, everything that I felt was off was truly off. With validation in hand, I’m excited for the long walk back to health.
I’m observing myself recover, as a reminder for when I care for others and for when I’ll inevitably have to recover in the future. I’m noticing that the boundaries I need to hold for physical healing are clear. Reflecting back on times I’ve had to heal emotionally, I pushed past my boundaries to meet societal expectations. This was especially true for recovery from emotional wounds that society doesn’t clear space to heal from (e.g., rejection, heartbreak that’s not divorce, job loss).
Here’s a tidy healing reminder list that I think applies for physical and emotional convalescence. Take the items that help, and leave what doesn’t fit your situation.
Trust yourself to know what you need. As my interviewee Alex, a salmon scientist and death doula, put it, listen to what your body and soul tell you what feels good.
Go slow. Don’t be rushed out of any state you’re in. The world will try to keep sirening for you to return or find a solution, but don’t be fooled.
Be needy. Get real comfortable asking for help and accepting it. Don’t be a hero about support – take the meds, let someone bring you the soup, the tissues, the candy. Let your community help you get up.
But also don’t be afraid to ask everyone to leave you alone. People want to help. AND some of the ugliest parts of healing require solitude. I had some moments of wanting no witness, when I felt like a weird broken thing and wanted no one to look at or think about me. The image that comes to mind is how the vampires in Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles would bury themselves in mud or sand to heal from severe injury. And then the feeling would go away and I wanted my community again. Both are fine.
Grieve. Your grief and disappointment about what happened will not vanish on its own. Give proper, dedicated time and space to your sadness. Express it with your mind and body, and then compost what you’ve expressed. I don’t want to diminish this item, the grief will take as long as it takes. Just make sure to offer grief your time and energy. I wrote instructions in this post, where I share that I won’t get to work in the Caribbean before I retire from working in fisheries:
Celebrate. This one may not come easily or quickly, but there are things to rejoice even when life feels flat, desolate, hopeless, or painful. First, celebration is tied to grief. Consider that you would not be sad but for the love and importance of what you lost. Second, if you can see the light in your situation, then bask in it. Right now, I’m so grateful to know that although I need to take things slow and heal over the next year, I have at least gotten past the rupture. Last, praise yourself for every little progress you make. Did your mobility increase? High five! Less despair compared to yesterday? Gold star! Saw a cool butterfly? Yes, the world still is marvelous!
Rest deeply. Let sleep sneak up on you and drag you down. Recline and talk slowly with loved ones. Read and watch things that are easy to ingest. Eat nourishing foods.
Orient yourself towards nature. I say “orient” because this is a soft invitation depending on the season and physical ability. On the low end, just be near a window, let yourself gaze outdoors, bring some blooms inside. Welcome in and seek out as much nature as you can.
Create something. This is one reminder that there is fertility and growth on the other side of endings and destruction. This time, I crocheted a lot. I’m working on a blanket and an infinity scarf. Doodle. Journal. Sing. Cook.
Expect healing to be non-linear. I keep riding high on how fast my body is recovering. But bright pain or deep fatigue arrive to communicate when I’ve gone too far too fast, and I have to rest all over again. The path to any worthwhile destination can zigzag. I’m trying not to let either the ups or downs have too much influence over my view of the process.
I’d love to hear what you’ve noticed about healing. What things are on your list?
This is a post read again and again. All of these things are easier said than done and we need to keep reminding ourselves. Thanks for the reminder!
As someone who has had many seasons of chronic pain I can really relate to your list. Sending love on your healing path 🤍