Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons that we’d rather not learn firsthand. Like many of you, I’ve had my share of moments that demanded a little more than just bandaging up and moving on. It’s been about navigating the tricky terrain of recovery, where the path isn’t just uphill—it’s unpredictable and often riddled with more potholes than a backcountry trail.
Being a trekker has given me a unique perspective on this. There’s a parallel between healing and trekking that I hadn’t appreciated until I was knee-deep in the process myself. When you start a trek, you know it’s going to be tough, you know there will be pain, and you’re prepared for the physical toll it will take. What you don’t always foresee is the emotional solitude that accompanies the most challenging stretches.
I once took on a trail that I thought I was ready for. I had the gear, the training, and the motivation. However, halfway through, I realized that the journey was much tougher than the map suggested. It wasn’t just the physical strain but the mental battle of pushing forward when every muscle screamed for respite. Similarly, during times of personal healing—whether it’s recovering from an illness, a heartbreak, or any profound loss—the journey can feel endlessly arduous.
You might start off thinking you’ve got it all figured out: a few weeks of down time, some self-care, and you’ll be back on track. But as days turn into months, you might find yourself still searching for the ‘old you’, feeling more like you’re on a relentless uphill climb rather than a recovery path.
“No one told me it would get this lonely,” echoes a sentiment many of us have felt during our healing process. There’s an isolation in healing that no one really talks about. It’s like waiting for a perennial plant in my garden to bloom. You provide all the right conditions, you water it, shield it from harsh weather, and still, it takes its sweet time. You can’t rush it, nor can you ignore it. It demands your patience and resilience.
The truth I’ve learned? Healing really does hurt sometimes. It’s not a linear process, nor a full-time job you can clock out of. It’s an ongoing, often tedious, endeavor that requires more than just time—it demands a part of your soul.
As a trekker, I know that every challenging trail has its end. With every step, no matter how painful, you’re closer to reaching a peak that promises a new view, a fresh perspective. Healing is much the same. It might feel like a series of false summits, but eventually, you reach a point where the pain begins to dissipate, and what’s left is a stronger, more resilient you.
In the grand trek of life, remember, the trails that challenge you the most also teach you the best. So, lace up your boots, embrace the journey, and keep moving forward—one step at a time.
Kamlesh Wadhwani says
Wow, very crisp and to the point. Healing, like trekking, is indeed a journey