Finding a New Normal with Chronic Hip Pain, Healing & Gardening

Finding a New Normal: Hip Pain, Healing, Neurofeedback & Gardening for the Soul

There comes a point in every healing journey where we realize we may never return to the version of ourselves we once were.

That realization can feel heartbreaking.

But it can also become the beginning of something gentler, wiser, and more honest.

For me, this season of life has been about learning how to create a new normal while living with chronic hip pain, recovering from multiple surgeries, reducing long-term pain medications, and finding small moments of beauty that still nourish my spirit.

Healing has not looked linear.

Some days I feel hopeful and grounded. Other days I feel frustrated by limitations, exhaustion, or uncertainty. But somewhere in the middle of all of it, I’ve started discovering something important:

Life can still hold meaning, beauty, creativity, and joy — even while healing.

Learning to Live in a Different Body

Chronic pain changes more than the body.

It changes routines. It changes relationships. It changes energy levels. It changes identity.

As someone who spent years teaching yoga, supporting others, and living an active life, adapting to physical limitations has required deep emotional work.

I’ve had to let go of timelines. I’ve had to stop comparing myself to who I used to be. I’ve had to redefine productivity.

And perhaps hardest of all, I’ve had to learn that rest is not failure.

There is grief in all of that.

But there is also growth.

I’m learning to honor my body instead of fighting it every moment of the day.

Reducing Pain Medication & Exploring Neurofeedback

One of the biggest shifts in my healing journey right now is reducing long-term pain medications.

After years of relying on medications to manage pain and simply survive difficult days, I’ve become increasingly aware of how deeply these medications can affect energy, cognition, mood, motivation, and overall well-being.

Tapering is not simple.

It requires patience, support, nervous system regulation, and realistic expectations.

One tool I’m beginning to explore is neurofeedback.

Neurofeedback works by helping the brain recognize and shift patterns of dysregulation. While everyone’s experience is different, many people use neurofeedback to support stress reduction, nervous system balance, focus, sleep, emotional regulation, and chronic pain management.

For me, this process feels less about “fixing” myself and more about helping my nervous system feel safe enough to heal.

Healing from chronic pain is rarely just physical.

The body, brain, emotions, stress response, and environment are all connected.

I’m learning that healing sometimes begins with creating moments of calm, safety, and steadiness in small everyday ways.

Gardening as Therapy for the Soul

One of the greatest gifts during this chapter has been gardening.

Not perfect gardening. Not magazine-worthy gardening.

Just getting my hands in the dirt. Watching things grow. Planting flowers that surprise me. Allowing beauty to exist alongside pain.

My garden has become a reminder that healing is rarely neat or linear.

Some flowers bloom unexpectedly. Some plants struggle and come back stronger. Some seeds never grow at all.

And yet the garden continues.

There is something deeply healing about caring for living things while learning to care for yourself.

Even on difficult pain days, stepping outside for a few moments helps me reconnect to something larger than my circumstances.

The fresh air. The sunlight. The birds. The simple rhythm of watering plants.

These small rituals matter.

They remind me that healing does not always happen in dramatic breakthroughs. Sometimes it happens quietly. One mindful moment at a time.

Creating a Life That Still Feels Meaningful

I used to think healing meant returning to my old life.

Now I’m beginning to understand that healing may actually mean creating an entirely new relationship with myself.

A slower life. A softer life. A more intentional life.

One where I celebrate small victories. One where creativity matters. One where rest is respected. One where beauty still has a place.

I don’t have everything figured out.

But I’m learning that even in uncertainty, there are still moments worth savoring.

A blooming flower. A quiet morning. A peaceful meditation. A good conversation. A dog curled beside you. A body that keeps trying.

That is enough for today.

Gentle Reflection

If you are navigating chronic pain, recovery, grief, or major life changes, may this be your reminder that you do not have to heal perfectly.

You are allowed to adapt. You are allowed to slow down. You are allowed to create a new version of life that supports who you are now.

Healing is not always about becoming who you once were.

Sometimes it’s about discovering who you are becoming.


Call to Action

How are you finding moments of peace or joy during difficult seasons? Share in the comments — I’d love to hear what is helping nourish your spirit lately.


Enjoying this content? My book 52 Weeks of Wisdom & Wellness goes deeper — find it here.

From “I Can” to “I Can’t”—And Learning to Be Okay with That

For most of my life, I have been an “I can” person. I can push through. I can figure it out. I can keep going, no matter what. That mindset carried me through challenges, fueled my passions, and shaped the way I moved through the world. But this past year—facing three hip surgeries, constant pain, and now preparing for yet another grueling surgery—has taught me a lesson I never expected: it’s okay to say “I can’t.”

At first, those words felt foreign, almost like giving up. I resisted them, believing that if I just tried harder, pushed a little more, I could still do everything I used to. But the reality of my healing journey forced me to pause.

I began to recognize that saying “I can’t” wasn’t about weakness—it was about truth.

It was about listening to my body instead of fighting against it. It was about setting boundaries, asking for help, and honoring what I needed, not just what I wanted to be able to do.

Learning to accept “I can’t” has brought an unexpected sense of peace. It has opened the door to self-compassion, allowing me to focus on what I can do in this season of life—whether that’s gentle movement, meaningful connection, or simply resting without guilt. It has shown me that strength isn’t measured by how much we push through, but by how well we adapt, accept, and allow ourselves to be human.

The Benefits of Accepting Limitations

Accepting our limitations doesn’t mean giving up—it means making space for a different kind of growth. Here are a few ways this shift has been a gift in my life:

  1. Less Pressure, More Peace – Releasing the need to always push forward has allowed me to be more present. Instead of feeling like I’m falling short, I’m learning to embrace where I am.
  2. Deeper Self-Compassion – Saying “I can’t” doesn’t mean I’m failing; it means I’m honoring my needs. This mindset shift has allowed me to treat myself with the same kindness I would offer a loved one.
  3. More Meaningful Connections – When I let go of the need to do everything on my own, I opened myself up to receiving help and support from others. That vulnerability has deepened my relationships in ways I never expected.
  4. Redefining Strength – True strength isn’t about endurance at all costs; it’s about knowing when to pause, when to ask for help, and when to let go.
  5. Finding New Possibilities – While I may not be able to do certain things the way I used to, I’ve discovered new ways to move, teach, and connect. Accepting my limitations has made room for fresh opportunities.

If you’re struggling with your own limitations—whether physical, emotional, or something else entirely—know that “I can’t” is not the end of your story. It’s an invitation to shift, to soften, and to embrace life as it is, rather than how we think it should be. And sometimes, that shift brings more healing than any amount of pushing ever could.

For me, I have even learned that saying “I can’t” to mowing the lawn or doing heavier house work has brought so much freedom into my life. I never thought I would be okay with handing over the reigns of the lawn mower to a paid yard boy but it is truly amazing!

Have you ever had to learn to be okay with saying “I can’t”? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences. ?

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Disappointment

“Disappointment is a stepping stone to resilience. It toughens you up and prepares you for the challenges that lie ahead.” ~ Michelle Obama

Disappointment is such a strange thing. In my mind I know that all disappointments lead to some sort of lesson or growth, if we choose to look for it. It may be that we learn our own value, how to walk away, or even deep acceptance. Regardless of the lesson, it usually comes after experiencing some version of disappointment.

Most people already know of some pretty major disappointments that I’ve experienced in my life that have led me to greatness.

I’ve taken one of the biggest disappointments in my life and turned it in to my purpose and my passion.

What a lot of people don’t know is that for over 20 years I have struggled with the disappointment of my body. I have sat in pain management clinics for that duration trying spinal injections, varieties of medications, alternative methods, and eventually facing the pain with resiliency and movement. The disappointment fueled me to be stronger and stronger. It guided me to places I didn’t know I had in me. I faced the disappointment of many diagnosis with the fire to fight back.

The early weeks of January 2016 I experienced a new pain. A horrific pain. Within a few weeks I learned I had torn tissue in my hip. Three surgeries over the course of 18 months, and once again I am ten days away from yet another hip surgery.

I have needed this surgery for over a year but put it off last February because the timing wasn’t right. It’s right now.

In my preparation to get my body at its best form and fullest strength going into this big one. I have been consistently strength training five times a week for over two years. Refining my muscles and gaining strength and confidence has been empowering.

But, disappointment shows up again.

The familiar pain that grinds deeps into the lower back. That pain that prevents movement. Startling pain that makes my breath short and shallow. Pain that has brought me to the hospital twice unable to move in the past. The pain that makes my world shatter.

Not now. It can’t be now.

  • I need to be strong.
  • I need to be healthy.
  • I need to not hurt this much.
  • I need my back to settle down so I’m strong for my new hip and I need this disappointment to move along.

Or, is this disappointment inviting more resilience than I knew I had? Is it showing me what I have in me to face the challenge?

Maybe it’s both. I need to not hurt like this AND I need to be reminded of my strength and ability to overcome.