The Great Reclamation
Feeling the cool breeze on my skin, the sun's warmth in the middle of winter—it's moments like these that remind me just how far I've come.
After years of pain, disconnection, and struggle, I found my way back to myself through nature, movement, and a new kind of nourishment. I’ve reclaimed my authentic self after a lifetime of being trapped in a battle with my body.
I was hiking again the other day—my favorite way to start the day. The crisp air, the flump, flump, flump of my steps, and the joy of being wrapped in nature's embrace are medicine for my soul.
I've been recording some of my thoughts and reflections on these walks lately for a new YouTube project, and I often talk about the part moving in nature has played in my great reclamation.
Nature has been a cornerstone in rebuilding my mental wellbeing and physical health. When I lose my connection to nature, I lose myself.
The beginning
Around eight years ago, I noticed a strange pain in my hip while hiking the same hills I joyfully climb these days. Just a minor niggle at first, but it grew worse over time. Eventually, I was diagnosed with rapidly deteriorating osteo-arthritis, and at just 49, I was walking with a cane.
My weight increased yet again, my mental health plummeted yet again, and I felt trapped—physically and emotionally. This time it was arthritis, and at other times it’s been migraines, debilitating polycystic ovarian pain, lower back pain—always pain locking me into a shell.
I finally underwent hip replacement surgery, which was both a relief and a wake-up call. I’d been there so many times. So many surgeries. So many injuries. So much pain. So much chronic burnout, constant bone-crushing fatigue, depression and anxiety, and constantly battling to find and stay at a healthy weight.
Something had to shift, profoundly and permanently.
No more fixing
Post-surgery, I began to rebuild, but I still hadn’t found the balance I needed to heal fully. It took more injuries over the ensuing eighteen months for me to finally stop treating my body as something that needed to be fixed and to start listening to it.
All my life, my body was a battlefield, something to conquer and “fix” rather than care for, and I knew this somehow needed to change fundamentally.
So, I started small. There was no choice as three mishaps in the year after my hip replacement surgery had left me with ongoing head trauma symptoms as well as displaced ribs, an injured shoulder, and torn muscles and ligaments in my ankle.
I was forced to reevaluate my approach and seek answers because my years of studying health, nutrition, psychology, and many healing modalities had not given me the necessary keys to unlock myself from the boom or bust cycles.
The most significant shift came when I discovered the traits of high sensitivity and high sensation seeking. Suddenly, my lifelong experience of chronic pain made sense.
The high sensation-seeking trait threw me headlong into new adventures and roles. At the same time, my heightened sensitivity to EVERYTHING meant I was constantly overloaded, and my nervous system processed pain and stress more intensely than most.
Consistently punishing my body, pushing and forcing, sent my already overloaded nervous system into constant, full-blown fight/flight/freeze. It was little wonder I’d spent more than fifty years lurching from one medical malady to the next.
Real healing meant nourishing my body and nervous system, not fighting them. It meant listening to and being, not telling and doing.
(I suggest reading that one again.)
Listening and being, not telling and doing.
So I changed everything.
Reclaiming myself
I started walking again—flat routes at first, then gentle hills. Slowly, ever so slowly, building up only once it became easy to make the distance.
I embraced yoga for strength, posture, breath, mindfulness, and a way of being in the world. And I returned to nature as a daily, sacred ritual. It’s where I reconnect to my body and the earth, to joy and grace, and to something greater than myself.
Now, I move for pleasure. I move for connection. I move for joy.
And I’ve never felt more whole. More alive. More me.
After a lifetime of battling my body, yo-yo dieting because I could never maintain a healthy body weight, and living in constant pain, I now feed my body what it needs to flourish—food that’s rich in micronutrients, low-inflammatory, fiber-rich plants, being in nature to feed my spirit, and listening and watching what nourishes me.
We’re interconnected beings, not separate parts.
I listen when my body says I need to stop.
I need daily downtime to process all the sensory data I gather like a sponge, so I take it. I let go of the guilt, borne of someone else’s beliefs that doing equals productive and worthy.
I listen to my emotions, the messengers. I feel my feelings.
Creating safety in my body, to be with what comes up, has definitely been a process. It’s hard when all you’ve done is battle with yourself. All that pain over all those years equaled a lot of stored physical and emotional trauma and a body that felt far from safe.
It takes time to retrain those automatic responses that saw me reach for food instead of sitting with whatever emotion came up. I journaled—a lot—and focused on giving myself everything I needed to heal.
Wherever you are in your health journey, know this:
🌿Joyful movement—especially in nature—can lead to profound healing.
🌿You don’t need to battle your body. Start by listening, by softening, and by finding a rhythm that feels kind.🌿Truly nourishing your body, mind, and spirit is the path to finding peace with yourself.
🌿Unravelling all of the knots, trauma, emotions, beliefs, and habits your body stores is a lengthy process. It’s a process worth doing—slowly, mindfully, one step at a time.
Listening to my body started a process of profound transformation. It’s taken several years to unravel the sticky beliefs and learned habits and discover how to live peacefully with the gifts of high sensitivity and sensation seeking.
It’s an ongoing process, one I doubt I’ll ever “finish”, but the shift in how I live and treat myself is miraculous. I’m excited for the future, to watch my own unfolding, free from the battle at last.
The miracle of reclamation is possible.
🌿If this post resonates, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Do you have a movement practice that brings you joy? Or a place in nature that feels like home? Hit reply or share this with a friend who might need a reminder.
🌿Is your body a battlefield? Reach out—I’d love to walk alongside you to create a vibrant, energetic, balanced life at peace with your body.
PS. I’m sitting under a blanket, laptop on a cushion in front of me, beside a roaring fire this morning. I’ve picked up a bug. So, the past couple of days, I stopped. Completely. Whatever it is won’t hang around for long, and I see it as a messenger.
For years, the only time I stopped was when I was sick. It was the only way my poor body could get me to slow down.
I’ve been pushing too much lately. I'm excited to share all I know with other women who are tired of battling their bodies and want to live in peace, with vitality and joy. I slipped into the old patterns and consequently ended up unwell.
So, as you see, it’s an ongoing process of listening and learning, knowing when to push on and when to slow down. This bug is a messenger, and I’ll tweak what I’m doing accordingly because sharing this knowledge is important, but my own health and well-being are, too.