Beyond Quick Fixes: A Path to Slow Healing

Ask any of my friends and family, and they'll chuckle as they tell you about my pace.

I'm the one who strolls while others jog, the last to leave the room, always taking my time to soak in every detail.

My walks are leisurely, my actions deliberate, and my to-do lists?

Well, they get done, eventually.

Sometimes this slowness is a blessing, allowing me to savor life's moments. Other times, it's less advantageous, like when deadlines loom and the world seems to be sprinting by.

My Taurus sun energy deeply roots me in this slower rhythm, a constant in the whirlwind of life’s demands.

This intrinsic slowness of mine was always at odds with the world's pace. I often felt out of step, like I was moving in a different time zone.

The hustle and bustle around me seemed to be in a language I couldn't quite understand.

I've lost count of the times I've scolded myself, "If only I could move faster, achieve more, be more..." In trying to match the world's speed, I've stumbled, fallen, and found myself back at the starting line, exhausted and disheartened.

But then, an epiphany.

I realized that healing, the genuine, lasting kind, dwells in this slowness that I was so eager to escape.

True healing doesn’t conform to the frantic pace of the world; it meanders, pauses, and sometimes even stops, inviting us to really listen to what's going on inside us.

My natural pace, which I had long seen as a barrier, was actually my greatest ally in my journey toward healing. It allowed me to deeply connect with myself, to understand my traumas, and to gently untangle the knots of my emotions.

In embracing my natural rhythm, I discovered a profound truth: real transformation and healing doesn’t come from racing against time but from moving in harmony with it.

I invite you to walk (not run) with me as we delve into the art of slow healing, celebrating the power of taking our time, and discovering the beauty in every slow, deliberate step we take.


this beautifully sums it up…

“Slow living is a more peaceful and present way to live, one in which we honor our energy as it is, without needing to guilt or shame it into doing or feeling something different. We accept our emotions, our fears, and our intuitive nudges as they are. There’s no barreling on through. There’s no hustle or grind. And there’s a whole lot less burnout as a result. Instead, we embody a slow and steadfast movement, one in which we prioritize endurance over speed. We rest when needed. We pivot and change direction when it feels aligning to do so. We prioritize strategy and reflection over churning out action and output. Living slowly is about becoming aware, asking yourself why you do the things you do. It’s getting curious, getting comfortable with not knowing the future, and it’s about peeling away the layers to discover the masterpiece within.”

—Excerpt from Slow Living by Helena Woods


BEYOND QUICK FIXES

The search for a quick fix is deeply ingrained in our culture.

We’re conditioned to seek instant solutions, miracle cures, and fast transformations.

It's understandable; who wouldn't want immediate relief from pain, instant progress towards goals, or a rapid path to personal growth?

But, as I discovered through my own journey, these quick fixes often offer only temporary relief.

They're like putting a band-aid on a wound that needs stitches — it might cover the problem for a while, but it doesn't truly heal it.

My journey toward healing wasn’t a sprint; it was more of a pilgrimage, a slow and steady walk through the depths of my own psyche.

I had to confront the parts of myself that I’d hidden away – the feelings of unworthiness, unlovability, and the unbearable weight of my shadows.

These were not aspects that could be healed with a one-time fix or a magical cure. They required patience, understanding, and a willingness to engage with them over time.

Yes, I experimented with various healing modalities – crystals, past life regression, Reiki, Integrated Energy Therapy, and more.

Each of these practices brought insights and shifts, yet none were the silver bullet I hoped for.

I even stood on the famed Vortexes of Sedona, each time hoping for a transformative experience that would instantly heal all my pain.

While these experiences were valuable, they were only stepping stones in a much larger, more complex process.

The real transformation began when I embraced the philosophy of slow healing.

This approach isn’t about rapid changes or quick fixes.

It's about integrating every part of the self, including the parts we’d rather not face.

It's a daily practice of slowing down, tuning in to my inner world, listening to my heart, and then taking inspired action based on the message I hear.

This method doesn’t provide instant results; instead, it fosters gradual, sustainable change that has far-reaching effects on all aspects of life.

Slow healing taught me that true change takes time.

It’s a journey of continuous growth, where each step, no matter how small, is a part of a greater transformation.

Through this practice, I've learned to appreciate the journey itself, not just the destination.

It's about finding peace in the process, joy in the growth, and fulfillment in the gradual unfolding of a more authentic self.

the paradox of slow healing: a personal epiphany

When the concept of slow healing first occurred to me, it seemed almost paradoxical. We often seek quick fixes to change, fix, or improve our situations, driven by a natural desire for immediate relief and results. This was certainly true in my own life, where a cycle of effort and failure often led to the realization that my approaches weren't working.

This realization hit a turning point with my exercise routine.

For years, I struggled to maintain a consistent workout regimen, frequently derailed by injuries like pulled muscles or back pain.

It was a frustrating cycle that seemed to repeat no matter how hard I tried.

Eventually, I reached a point of 'enough' and consulted with a Functional Patterns trainer, who advised a complete overhaul of my approach to movement.

"Stop everything you're doing. You need to retrain your body to move properly." That was the directive.

Slow down, learn to breathe, learn proper alignment of your ribcage over your hips, and even pay attention to how your big toe feels—every detail mattered.

This was a profound shift, emphasizing that everything was interconnected.

This experience crystallized what I had begun to understand about healing.

True healing requires us to retrain our habits and patterns.

It demands that we create space, slow down, and notice every part of ourselves to integrate into a unified whole.

Every urge to move faster or push harder had to be reconsidered. I knew I couldn’t revert to the old cycles of working out and getting hurt.

A new way of being unfolded, one where the freedom and ease I sought in my physical activities needed to match the peace and wholeness I felt in my heart and soul.

Slowing down wasn't just an option; it became the only path forward.

Through this personal journey, I've learned that slow healing isn't just about physical health; it's about aligning every aspect of our being—body, mind, and spirit—in harmony. It’s about acknowledging that every part of us is connected, and healing in one area influences all others.

This realization has transformed my approach not only to exercise but to life itself. Slowing down has become more than a method—it's a philosophy, a way of living that honors our natural rhythms and leads to deeper, more sustainable healing.

you’re invited to explore this idea of slow healing

Notice:

Notice what comes up for you when you sit with the words "slow healing." How does it feel in your body? Is there any resistance? Reflect on where in your life you want to leap ahead, to get from here to there in the fastest way possible. Just notice. You don't need to do anything but notice. Allow yourself to be present with whatever surfaces, embracing the feelings and thoughts as they come.

Invitation:

As you become aware of what arises, consider this your personal invitation to begin a journey of healing. You have the freedom to choose—say yes to embark on this path, or say no if the time doesn’t feel right. There’s absolutely no rush; the pace is yours to set. If your heart is pulling you towards healing, embrace this opportunity with openness and readiness to explore deeper.

Inquiry:

Engage in inquiry. Be genuinely curious about your own experiences. Ask yourself: What would happen if I fully embraced where I am right now? What if I slowed down my pace and didn't rush through my experiences? How might my life change if I trusted in the divine timing of things? Allow these questions to guide your reflection. Notice the emotions, thoughts, and physical sensations that arise with each question. Remember, there's no need to seek immediate answers—let the inquiry itself be a source of healing.

Embrace the Journey:

As you continue this exploration, keep a journal or a log of your thoughts and feelings. Writing down your reflections can deepen your understanding and enhance your journey. Slow healing is a process of unfolding, of gradually peeling back the layers to reveal new insights and truths about ourselves. Slow down, tune in, and trust that you are exactly where you need to be. You are not alone in this journey—many are walking this path, each finding their pace and peace.

You are warmly welcomed to share your experiences and insights as you embrace this path of slow healing. This community is here to support and witness your journey, offering companionship and compassion along the way.

With Love,

Maria

Previous
Previous

Inhale. Exhale.

Next
Next

Compassion Requires More Information