I didn’t begin this healing journey with a plan. There was no roadmap, no promise that things would get better — only an endless stream of doctor appointments and me, desperately seeking answers. Alongside the medical confusion came something even harder to bear: silence.
Thick, unrelenting silence. Isolation so complete, it felt like I’d been forgotten.
During the darkest years of illness and aloneness, especially at the beginning of the pandemic, I stumbled into something I wasn’t expecting: a quiet moment that softened the edges of my pain.
This is a story about that moment — and the slow, unexpected return of hope.
A Quiet Turning Point
When I was first bedbound, I didn’t set out to create a rhythm — I stumbled into it, out of sheer necessity.
I spent years alone and shut inside. My severe state coincided with the very beginning of the Covid pandemic. I was one of the first people in the UK to catch it, and I developed Long Covid at a time when nobody yet understood what that meant. People were terrified of contagion. Food deliveries were left outside my door. No one came inside. No family, no friends visited — just an aching silence that stretched into years.
During that time, completely isolated, I discovered something almost by accident. When I listened to certain spiritual teachers or meditation guides on YouTube or Spotify, my symptoms would sometimes settle for a little while. I didn’t intend to start meditating. I had simply gone online to find updates about the world outside, and stumbled upon a simple prayer of gratitude shared by a teacher I’d never heard of.
That tiny moment shifted something in me.
It wasn’t an ‘instant miracle cure’. And it didn’t erase the loneliness. But it became a soothing balm. A gentle pointer in a new direction.
I’d never heard of the mindbody connection. I didn’t understand the nervous system yet.
But I knew that somehow, this helped.
So I returned to it — again and again..
I began to build rhythm into my days: listening to gentle words as I lay quietly, then sometimes able to read a few lines of something hopeful or get up and do something gentle. I wasn’t “doing” much — but I was weaving a rhythm. Activity paired with restoration.
And somewhere along the way, without knowing it, I had begun.
It took years of perseverance, research and learning, but rhythm — the soft, repeated turning toward something steady — became one of the foundations of my healing journey.
A Message To Your Healing Heart
You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. You don’t need to know exactly why a small thing helps. Trust that creating a daily rhythm — however simple — is already supporting your mindbody system in ways you may not yet see.
If you’re walking through a season of deep loneliness right now, please know this: healing doesn’t always begin with doing. Sometimes, it begins with one small thing that brings you back to yourself. For me, it was a voice through the speakers. For you, it might be this post. Or a breath. Or a moment of stillness that doesn’t feel quite so empty.
Final Thoughts
Let the softest moment be enough for today — a kind voice, a breath, a flicker of peace. These are not solutions, but signals: signs that your system is listening, that your healing is already beginning.
If you’re walking through the depths of loneliness right now, please know:
You are not forgotten. You are not alone. And hope is still possible.
With love and warmth,
Amari 
Let one quiet moment be the beginning.
