On the days that hurt—
when the body speaks in softened ache,
and each breath arrives
like a delicate task performed in shadow—
let this be enough.
Let it be enough
that you woke to the turning of light,
even if it did not reach you.
Let it be enough
that you stayed,
though the hours unfolded slowly,
without welcome or ease.
There are moments when language fails you—when a single word, clinical and cold, is offered not as comfort, but as containment. It arrives quietly, cloaked in certainty, yet heavy with implication. A diagnosis. A name for the unknown. And in its naming, the subtle danger: that you might forget who you are beyond it.
But you must remember—
You are more than a diagnosis.
They say laughter lowers cortisol,
that a smile—however faint—
can tilt the chemistry of the mind,
turning stress into something
the body can release.
Joy, it seems, is not merely an emotion—
it is a physiological event.
A quiet rebalancing.
A shift in the inner atmosphere.
A single moment of delight
can soften the heart’s cadence,
loosen the breath,
invite light into places long dimmed.
Endorphins rise,
the immune system stirs,
and the weight of the day
grows mercifully lighter.
Many of you may recall having read these lines from past Thanksgivings; it is a retelling of a visit I had with one of my patients during this time of year—a woman whose life and struggles were unlike mine in many ways, but who nevertheless taught me many things about courage and integrity.
I hope you enjoy these words, and have a blessed Thanksgiving week.
***
Allow me to spin upon the spindle
a tale of an encounter true.
A patient once, a homeless mum,
her words now recounted for you:
![When Strength Grows Quiet [a poem]](https://i0.wp.com/healthinspiration.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/pexels-photo-733112.jpeg?fit=1200%2C848&ssl=1&resize=40%2C40){kind=small}
![The Dawn That Does Not Fail [a poem]](https://i0.wp.com/healthinspiration.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/pexels-photo-583850.jpeg?fit=1200%2C799&ssl=1&resize=40%2C40){kind=small}
