When My Body Called Time

It has been nearly 18 months since my last blog post. I had been missing in action but today, as I write this post, I can say—I’m not back with a bang. I’m simply… back to myself. This post is about how illness became my unexpected teacher, guiding me to reassess, realign, and return to what truly matters. Let me fill you in.

The First Whispers

In mid-2023, something subtle began to shift inside me. It wasn’t loud or dramatic—just a dull ache in both my body and my mind. I wonder now: Was it the body that gave up first, or was it my spirit that grew weary? I don’t know!

What I do know is that I started experiencing persistent lower back pain, unexplained fatigue, restlessness, and widespread pain across my joints and muscles. Around the same time, the joy and creativity that once flowed so freely into my work began to dry up—even as I was running a successful digital coaching business around soapmaking.

Like most of us do, I pushed through. I told myself it was 'just a phase'. I kept showing up. Until I couldn’t anymore!

When the Body Says No

In early 2024, my body began to speak in ways I could no longer ignore. The fatigue and aches became more lingering and persistent. It was constant, exhausting & inescapable. I could barely manage household tasks, let alone make soaps, teach classes, or show up for the business I had built.

In February, I made the decision to step away from active business. I moved my courses to more accessible platforms so they could continue serving others with minimal input from me. I knew I needed to heal—not just physically, but deeply, from within.

Then, as if the universe insisted I slow down, I fractured my ankle in March. It felt like life stepped in and said, “Now, rest. Fully.”

The Question That Changed Everything

The following months were tender, painful, and strangely illuminating. One afternoon, my three-year-old daughter looked up at me and asked,“Amma, why are you not yelling at me these days?”. The floodgates opened and I cried like a child. That question broke me open.

In that moment, I realised how far I had drifted from the mother, woman, and creator I wanted to be. I had become a version of myself I no longer recognised—disconnected, overwhelmed, operating on autopilot. My body had been trying to get my attention for over a year. And I didn't listen. But now, I had to do something about it.

A Name for the Pain

Just as I began to settle into our new home and studio—we had also moved cities during this time—I knew I couldn’t put my health on hold any longer. Everyday mundane tasks like combing my hair, folding sheets or reaching for a spice jar had become frustrating challenges.

In January 2025, after months of questions and no answers, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia—a chronic condition closely tied to long-term stress and emotional suppression.

Strangely, I felt relieved. Up until then, there was no name for the pain, no test result that explained what I was going through. There was finally a name for the silent, invisible weight I was carrying every day.

This diagnosis made me stop completely and ask: How did I even get here?

What the Stillness Revealed

In the pause that followed, many hard truths surfaced. I saw how unresolved trauma from a decade ago had gone unprocessed. How I had been stuck in survival mode for far too long. How saying "yes" even when I meant "no" had become my default. How people-pleasing and overcommitment had drained me.

I began working through these patterns—gently—with therapy, somatic work, mindfulness, and meditation. And alongside that, I began examining my relationship with work and business.

What my business had become

In hindsight, I can clearly see how I had drifted from the joy that once made my business feel alive.

When I started soapmaking, it was an art—a space for personal creativity and exploration. But after launching my digital coaching business in 2022, I began following a “proven path” laid out by others. Don’t get me wrong, it worked beautifully. There was growth, praise, recognition. But underneath, I was building something that didn’t feel like mine.

Over time, soapmaking became a means to an end—to create scripted content on social media & to launch more courses. Although I was helping others build their dreams, I was quietly losing connection with my own.

Ironically, while I taught my students to build values-aligned businesses, I had stopped listening to my own values and succumbed to burnout.

Life has a way of holding up a mirror. And yes—I felt exposed.

Rebuilding From Stillness

In the stillness, I began to reassess and here's what I realised:

• I didn’t enjoy the constant pressure of showing up on social media.

• I missed the tactile joy of making soaps with no agenda.

• I longed for in-person human connection that a digital-only model couldn’t offer.

• I had spent more time trying to “keep my head above the water” than simply savoring the water and the swim.

• I had deeply internalized the idea that success equals constant doing. And somewhere along the way, I had forgotten how to just be.
  

Where I Am Now

Today, I feel more grounded. More me. I may not have a perfect 10-step business plan. But I do have clarity on what feels good, true, and aligned.

Here’s what this next chapter—my version 2.0—looks like for now:

• Making soaps again—for the sheer joy of creation, for experimentation, for the art of it.

• Writing here on my blog—a slower, more thoughtful space to share.

• Using social media mindfully, rather than constantly.

• Focusing on a National audience, instead of stretching myself globally.

• Hosting more in-person workshops, where connections feel real and nourishing.

• Letting go of hustle and overcommitment, and honoring my energy and capacity.
  

I’m no longer here to prove that I'm a expert. I’m here to create, to connect, to live & share from my truth.

A Gentle Reminder

If your body is asking you to pause—please listen. If you’re feeling lost—you’re not alone. If you’re afraid to stop—know that stopping might just save you.

You don’t even have to return. But if you do, it needn't be with a bang. Sometimes, returning to yourself is the most powerful beginning there is.

With warmth, Surya