A Week of Reflection: Embracing Lessons from Chaos and Chronic Illness

This past week unfolded as a raw, emotional whirlwind—a storm of challenges, realizations, and resilience. It began with a cascade of events triggered by a loved one’s outburst, and yet, as I waded through the emotional wreckage, I realized this wasn’t their story. It was mine. This week wasn’t just about dealing with confrontation or physical pain; it was about facing the life I’ve created and the deeper healing I’ve continued to put off.

The Power of Reflection: Stepping Into 2025

Monday’s arrival felt abrupt, the clock already creeping toward noon as I caught up on my morning pages—a ritual I usually reserve for Sundays. As I reviewed my thoughts and insights from the prior week, it hit me: 2025 is here, and we’re creeping up to mid-month already. The cusp of a new year brought with it a blend of nostalgia and hope, weaving together a tapestry of connections, introspection, and small triumphs.

I’ve learned to embrace the beauty of imperfection, celebrating the courage it takes to show up even when life feels messy. Stepping into 2025, I’m anchoring myself with grace and intention. My first step? Reevaluating habits—like adjusting my wake time and curbing late-night TV. Small, sustainable changes feel like a powerful way to reclaim balance.

That Monday morning, I completed my weekly medicine wheel reading. The week’s theme? Profound transformation and balance, especially through harmonizing celestial wisdom with grounded action. The accompanying affirmation reminded me of my strength:

"I align with the wisdom of the stars, the sweetness of life, the clarity of my spirit, and the harmony of feminine consciousness. I am whole, balanced, and empowered."

Fuck yeah, I am.

Confrontation and Collapse: Navigating Tuesday’s Chaos

Tuesday was supposed to be a celebration—my husband’s 50th birthday. Instead, it spiraled into a painful confrontation. The unexpected blowout the night before left my body in shambles, reacting as it always does to stress resulting in the prolonged release of adrenaline: locked joints, heart palpitations, and waves of pain and nausea. Good stress causes it too, dancing into the night, or aerobic exercise do it as well.

I was wrecked. Tears streamed as my heart raced and flip-flopped uncontrollably, and I realized that I had to take responsibility for my recovery. While pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. My husband and I agreed: if they ever cross that boundary again, they won’t be welcomed back. That allowed me to put it behind me and move forward.

But the fallout lingered. My carefully laid plans for the week—making a birthday cake, laundry, errands, pruning, meetings and social engagements—went out the window. Instead, I found solace in smaller victories: nurturing my canna baby, showing up for Storytime and Reading Buddies, and promoting my laughter workshop. These small acts of control became my lifeline.

The Healing Journey: Finding Light After Darkness

By Wednesday, my physical state had improved slightly, but the heart palpitations persisted. Thankfully, Dr. Walters and Travis at Burien Spine and Sport Rehab helped ease my body out of crisis mode, reminding me of the power of support systems.

Mom’s words stayed with me: “This is a spiritual attack. When you’re on the verge of major light work, you become a target.” It resonated deeply. The closer I get to my mission, the more resistance I seem to encounter. And yet, I felt the universe offering gifts of support—tiny reminders that I’m not alone.

Mom’s sobriety of nearly 35 years serves as a constant inspiration, her unwavering love a beacon in my darkest moments. Her strength reminded me that even when life feels relentless, resilience is always within reach.

Reclaiming Power: Lessons from Thursday’s Mantra

By Thursday, my mantra—It’s going to be okay. I’ll recover quickly and permanently—became my anchor. My body felt lighter, and my spirit began to breathe again. The darkness that loomed earlier in the week started to lift, replaced by gratitude for the love and support around me.

My husband’s small gestures, like bringing home comfort food from PCC, reminded me of the care I often overlook in my frustration. A dear friend’s long-distance encouragement sparked hope for uncovering answers to my health struggles. Even the loved one’s unexpected gift of honey was oddly timed, a quiet reminder of grace amidst chaos.

In my NBHWC class, we practiced reframing, shifting narratives of self-doubt into ones of hope. Changing “My body has failed me” to “I’m having thoughts that my body is failing me” felt like a profound act of self-compassion. There is no actual truth in “my body is failing me” because I’m alive and breathing. I’m able to sit at my desk and write about my experience. That is a gift, not a failure.

Facing the Deeper Patterns

Through all of this, I’ve started to see the ways I’ve been outsourcing parts of my life—letting others take on responsibilities I should have owned. It’s a painful realization, but one I’m ready to face. Chronic illness and unresolved pain have been my companions for decades, but I’ve built a life that feels more like managing than truly healing.

This week, I spoke with my spiritual counselor about reclaiming my power in relationships, particularly with this loved one. We crafted boundaries that honor my need for safety while allowing my husband to maintain his friendship with them. This balance felt like a step toward living more authentically—owning my truth without fear.

Embracing the Gifts in Struggle

As the week drew to a close, I found myself soaking in a mineral bath, reflecting on the lessons the chaos had brought. My doctor’s words echoed in my mind: “You’re a Leo. Of course, you retreat to lick your wounds, but you’ll come back roaring.”

She was right. The turbulence wasn’t just noise; it was a call to step deeper into my purpose. This life I’ve created—with its flexibility, its support systems, its balance of work and rest—is exactly what I need for moments like these.

Even in the midst of heartache (both literal and figurative) and physical flares, the universe whispered its unwavering support. It reminded me to slow down, to trust the process, and to find the gifts in the struggle. This week wasn’t perfect, but it was perfectly human—and in that, I’ve found my strength. I showed up to what was important, and graciously released the rest. The housework and errands will keep until another day, for now I will nurture my body and my spirit.

Looking Ahead

As I move forward, I’m holding onto the lessons of this week: the importance of boundaries, the power of self-compassion, and the resilience that comes from showing up, even when it’s hard. The journey isn’t linear, but it’s mine—and that’s enough.

Here’s to a year of courage, grace, and unshakable purpose.