Tag: hypermobile-joints

🌲When Comparison Becomes a Thorn in Your Forest 🌳

pammunkholm

Sometimes my life feels like a forest—dense, shadowed, and uneven.

Everyone else seems to walk a wide, sunlit path: their maps are clear, their steps steady, their packs light.

Meanwhile, I carry heavy bundles of pain and medicine, stumbling often, wondering if I’ll ever catch up.

~Cue the tiny violins 🎻 🤭~

Beyond the Familiar: Embracing a Different Forest

My therapist keeps telling me to stop comparing myself to other people – that life’s not a competition. Which, to be fair, is exactly what I’d say to someone I was trying to beat, too.

-from 22 Quotes About Chronic Pain

Comparison is never useful. It’s like measuring trees by how tall they look in someone else’s forest, forgetting that soil, roots, storms, and sunlight differ wildly. 

Or like judging an oak tree by how quickly the wildflowers around it bloom. Different roots, different seasons, different reasons for being.

And yet I fall into it—measuring my path against someone else’s trail, forgetting we are not even walking in the same terrain.

Comparing … is a waste of time and effort; we are all different people, experiencing and feeling things differently.

San Diego Prepare Yourself: Sisterhood Adventures Await

Next month, my sisters will gather in San Diego. I am so excited for them. And to hear about their adventures. Sunshine, laughter, time to connect. It’ll be fabulous.

I would love to be there. But the cost of my monthly medicine is about the same as what that trip would take.

I live in a different economy—the economy of pain management. So instead of boarding a plane, I stay home.

~Poor lil’ me 🥲👉👈 🤣 ~

It’s hard not to compare. Their togetherness, my absence. Their momentum, my stillness. I remind myself that longing is not failure—but it still stings.

Screenshots of a Life I Don’t Live: Family Call, Personal Spiral

On a recent morning: my sister called from her vacation in London. On a family video call. At 9 a.m., I was still coaxing my muscles awake.

I listened to the bagpipes she was sharing and checked out the sights in the background. I marvelled at what she has been able to accomplish and see in her life. I joy in her success.

Inevitably another emotion starts to rise. As on the screen, this is what I see:

  • One sister in her home office, thriving in a job that suits her perfectly.
  • Another in her kitchen, caring for her family and home.
  • A sister-in-law outdoors, likely at the park or on a walk with her two littles.
  • My parents smiling in their living room, enjoying retirement and seeing their family.
  • And then there was me—tired, clearly still in bed, clearly accomplishing nothing.

That’s how I saw it. In truth, no one said that. But comparison painted me useless in bold letters across the screen.

~Woe is meee 🐌💤 😜 ~

A Sermon I Couldn’t Speak

At church, I tried to answer a question on a bad pain day after a sleepless night. My words came tangled, incomplete.

I saw my husband’s face and thought, I’m taking too long. I gave up. Without tying my random thoughts together. And I gave him the microphone. He expertly gave a clear, concise answer that was perfectly on point. My effort looked weak next to his polish.

Comparison whispered: why even try?

Fredrik Backman once wrote:

“My brain and I, we are not friends. My brain and I, we are classmates doing a group assignment called Life. And it’s not going great.”

But here’s the truth: trying counts. Even stumbling words are a kind of courage.

The Math of Measuring Up Never Works: The Broken Ruler I Keep Using

Comparison is a thief. It always leaves you with less than you started.

It’s like weighing a feather against a stone and expecting the scale to balance it out. It demands a sameness life never promised. It blinds us to the worth in our own story.

As a people, we tend to magnify the strengths and blessings another person receives. But minimize our own gifts, talents and opportunities. Social media is as helpful as a screen on a submarine when it comes to perpetuating this problem.

There’s no hierarchy of pain. Suffering shouldn’t be ranked, because pain is not a contest.

No one truly wins the “Pain Olympics”.

–Lori Gottlieb

Living with chronic pain means my days will never look like someone else’s. But that doesn’t mean they’re lesser—it just means they’re different.

Brene Brown says:

Fear and scarcity trigger comparison and we start to rank our own suffering.

Brown calls this comparative suffering. She goes on to say,

The opposite of scarcity is not abundance; the opposite of scarcity is simply enough.

Empathy is not finite, and compassion is not a pizza with eight slices. When you practice empathy and compassion with someone, there is not less of these qualities to go around. There’s more. Love is the last thing we need to ration in this world

This toxic pattern of comparison blocks emotional processing and prevents genuine empathy, creating isolation rather than connection. 

My worth is not judged by what I do in comparison to others, but by what I do with what I have—what love, what compassion, what presence I can offer. Even just in showing up.

Measuring By Love, Not Ladders

I’ve decided to measure my life by something else: in every conversation, I want the other person to leave feeling better about themselves than when we started.

If they do, then I’ve accomplished something real. It may not be a promotion, a trip abroad, or a picture-perfect moment. But it’s love, and it’s within my reach.

In such a headspace there should be no time for shame and comparing. Only felicitations and adulation.

Broken But Still Moving

Mandy Harvey is a singer/ songwriter. I saw her on an America’s Got Talent clip. Mandy lost her hearing when she was 18. Interestingly enough she has EDS which is similar to my connective tissue disorder.

On the show, she spoke about initially going to dark places. And when she decided she wanted more for her life, she wrote this song. And performed it in front of a live audience and judges and cameras.

She beautifully sings,

“I don’t feel the way I used to / The sky is grey much more than it is blue / But I know one day I’ll get through/ And I’ll take my place again… So I will try…

There is no one for me to blame/ Cause I know the only thing in my way/ Is me…

I don’t live the way I want to/ That whole picture never came into view/ But I’m tired of getting used to/ The day

So I will try..

Those words hold me when comparison tries to unravel me.

Forest Therapy: A Way Forward

If comparison is a thorn, forest therapy can be a balm.

The forest floor is messy. Layers of leaf litter, moss, dead wood. It doesn’t pretend to be clean and perfect. It is rich because of its imperfections.

Your struggles, limitations, pain give richness and texture to your life story—not flaws to hide.

Walking a path in woods, you may have to step over roots, navigate mud and stray branches. But each step gives you awareness, grounding, breathing space.

Comparison often makes us spin like leaves in the wind; forest therapy anchors us.

When comparison grabs tight, I go to the woods.

The forest does not compare:

  • Trees don’t measure their height against one another.
  • Moss doesn’t resent the ferns.
  • Streams don’t ask why the river runs faster.

Each element grows where it is, as it is. That is enough.

Roots, Rituals and Small Resets

Here are ways the forest has supported me:

Leaning against a tree and letting its rootedness remind me that I, too, belong.

Listening to the birds until my thoughts soften.

Sitting by water and imagining my comparisons floating downstream.

From Forest Floor to Open Sky

Yes, I still compare. Yes, it still hurts. But when I remember that comparison steals joy, I find space to choose something else.

I may not be in San Diego, or London, or even fully awake at 9 a.m. (to those who are, Have as good a time as possible, given that I’m not there. Heehee 😊)

~Life said nope 🙃🍋~

I can still offer kindness, presence, and love.

And maybe that is enough.

I want to feel good about my life. Not in the sense of “as good as anyone else,” but as my life, full of the shape I have.

Chronic pain is part of the soil I grow in. It’s changed what I can do, yes—but also deepened what I can feel, what I can appreciate.

If everyone else seems to be walking on sunlit paths, I may be walking in dappled shade, or in a different time of day. But my path is still mine, and still worthy. Because even in the shaded parts of the forest, light still filters through.

What is Forest Therapy

pammunkholm

In the 1980s, through the national health program in Japan, was introduced the art of Shinrin- Yoku or forest bathing as it is known in English, to help workers reduce stress. The negative effects of stress were starting to rear their ugly head. Heart conditions, high blood pressure, a rise in auto immune disease. Doctors pointed sufferers to the forest for help. The forest has many healing qualities and Japan was learning how to harness them and how to offer it to others. These sufferers were willing to try anything. Are you there? Do you feel like you’ve tried everything? With a forest therapy guide to get the most benefits, forest bathing is still proving most effective today. 2/3 of Japan is forest. Some of the most beautiful in the world. Doctors even started prescribing it to those with stress related disease. Doctors in Japan recognized how many people had become disconnected from the earth. While our ancestors slept on the ground and ate food grown from it and walked around on it with nothing to stop the negative electrons flowing into their bodies, those in modern day Japan were far from this description. The effects of this disconnection are not isolated to the eastern hemisphere. Our world is highly toxic and the earth offers a way to heal from the negative effects. In an effort to connect the people around me back to the earth, I prescribe it to you today.

Forest Therapy or Forest Bathing, the literal translation of the Japanese term, Shinrin Yoku is what I want to tell you about. The art of going into the forest for healing. There are various understandings of the term. But in all the research I have done it has nothing to do with bathing as you might be picturing the use of the word. No rubber ducks. No shower caps. And everyone is to be fully clothed!!! At all times!!! The relation to bathing is only in the way that when you have a bath you are fully immersed in the water; forest bathing helps you fully immerse yourself in the forest or absorb the forest atmosphere. That is where healing begins.

Forest bathing can be defined as making contact with and taking in the atmosphere of the forest. With all the physical, mental and spiritual benefits of forest bathing, you also gain access to other tools here that can be used to generate and accelerate healing. These are the tools I have learned and developed into my own routine. I’ve tried so many suggestions, through decades of pain. This is the first non-medicated thing that has consistently helped me.

Studies have shown that there are a myriad of health benefits to being in the forest. Some of these benefits include lowered concentration of cortisol, lower pulse rate, lower blood pressure, lower blood sugar levels, greater parasympathetic nerve activity, and lower sympathetic nerve activity when compared to being surrounded by city environments. Being in the forest is great. Bathing yourself in the forest is even better. I can show you how in future posts!

The forest therapy I offer is a combination of forest bathing, silence, (doesn’t everyone know how to do that? what if someone else is disrupting your silence? what if the silence feels awful?) grounding, and more. I will explain all of these in further detail in later posts but for now I just want to get the overall idea out there.

As with all programs this one has its side effects. Unfortunately, with these tools in place you can reduce the symptoms for anxiety, depression, anger, increase your concentration and memory, boost your immune system, (an increase to NK cells) improved quality of sleep, reducing fatigue and confusion and an overall improvement to your mood. Increased positive and decreased negative feelings. No weight gain or facial paralysis hiding at the end of the list over here.

I want to be clear. I would never tell anyone to stop taking any medication without talking to their doctor. Some are necessary and life saving. And I myself have not reached the point with my condition to stop all medications. We all start from where we are and carefully move forward. When it comes to medical areas, talk to your doctor. If you have a mental crisis, talk to a mental health care professional. If you feel you are in spiritual crisis, talk to a religious leader or friend. What we are talking about here, my target audience, is those who are living their lives and functioning- adjacent and I can help take them to an even better life with the tools I offer. Ideally a life with less pain.

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Now. What if you live in the city? This is the beauty of forest therapy. You can create an atmosphere of forest bathing within any natural environment. The more natural, the more you can accomplish. Yet every grounded plant, spot of grass or tree can offer benefits to the most diseased among us.

Join me by booking your walk over on my contact page.

That’s it my sweet friends. Allow me to show you the way.

Forest Therapy: How I Manage My Chronic Pain

pammunkholm

I have talked with too many women who, like me, are currently dealing with daily, chronic pain. And due to years of suffering with no exact source that can be named or found they now picture themselves in a life story where they have been written off as weak of character because of the limitations of their body, mind or spirit. They have lost themselves to the pain and are running on empty. Have you also felt misunderstood or so very small while trying to seek understanding and support? To the point you feel it’s not worth the effort anymore?

This has been my experience.

As a society we have benefitted immensely from the study and practice of western medicine. I know phenomenal healthcare workers. We need more people like them. They are fabulous at their jobs. Sadly, that world of medicine has not held the resolutions I needed. Through my experience I have learned, western medicine is not the only answer.

I don’t fit a simple diagnosis. I have extreme hyper mobile joints. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’m not an easy fix. And yet, contrary to popular belief, my pain exists. Doctors don’t know what to do with me, so the answer has been to live with it. Manage the symptoms and put up with pain.

But my body decided that wasn’t good enough and it started to shut down on me. Since that time, I’d like to say I started listening. But I’m a mom that had stuff to do. Luckily, MY mom noticed and made me pay attention. She literally saved my life. (Thanks Mom!👍) She has led me to the resources and health care team that I need, not only to survive but to thrive.

One method of healing that has been of great worth to me is the practice of grounding. I will go into greater detail in later posts but the idea is to connect to the earth and access its healing properties. To take this to even greater benefits, one should connect with nature on all levels. Physical, emotional, social and spiritual. Through taste, smell, sight, sound and touch. This method I will explain, is one I have found of greatest advantage, lowest cost, and gentle enough for even the most unhealthy and toxic ridden among us.

I promise I’m not crazy, new age, or trying to convert you to a cult. Stick with me here.

All I know is that somewhere in my great efforts to learn and practice grounding and other methods, I started to hope that there was a better life ahead and I was worth this campaign to come back to life. The aggravating pain started to subside. I could see what was helping me and how it could help others. All this led to the decision that it is worth the daily grind. Nobody could do this for me. I was ready to find relief. It came in the form of forest therapy.

For years now, I’ve been on a journey to find better health for myself, most recently, through grounding and now forest therapy. Actually, until not long ago, it’s been less of a journey and more of a marathon. With mudslides and hurricanes. And zombies and ninja mice (I hate mice). Sometimes I’m on a roller coaster, sometimes circling another drain. And yet, in the marathon, I have met some of the best people and found healing in the places and ways I least expected. And although some days it has taken all the energy of my soul, I dare say I’m stronger now. A strength like the intertwining roots of a forest, each piece of knowledge entangled with the next. Holding up what I have come to recognize as great worth to me.

Doctors have tried to help me find answers. In that effort there is more pain. The physical pain I saw coming. The emotional pain would come out of nowhere and slap me in the face. I have experienced months of waiting to see a specialist who I hoped would have the answers and instead, I was asked why I even came to see him as my condition has nothing to do with his specialty. ‘Sir, I can’t even pronounce your specialty. And btw I’ve been putting all my hopes on this. Holding to the faith that something can improve. But thanks for your diagnosis of don’t- let- the- door- hit- you- on- the- way- out.’ On another occasion I was told there is nothing doctors can do if I don’t want to take the medication (they literally laughed at me and said I’d be back for it), as though I’m an obstinate child and not a woman that knows my body and how it will react. One time in a first ever patient-doctor interview, after giving him some basic symptoms, he jumped to erroneous conclusions and told me if I wasn’t going to get up off the couch he couldn’t help. I was going to have to make an effort 😒. He had no idea the efforts I’d made. I hope he’s had a chance to rethink his bedside manners. On leaving a doctor’s office I heard the heartbeat in another room where a mom-to-be listened and my heart crumpled with the memory of when that was so recently me. In the days before my miscarriage. Instead, I was the woman walking out after a miraculous pregnancy that ended suddenly without any medical reason after 10 years of trying. That tiny one and all the joy of having another baby quietly slipped away one morning. I have had surgery after surgery and medication after medication offered as the best and only solution. I have made up my mind. I don’t want to live this way anymore. I want to practice what I’ve gained in going into the forest.

I call this blog Sunbeam Acres, if you go down in the woods today…

I hope I have rays of light to share with you that will brighten your day. Bright little idea babies that you can take and turn into whatever works for you. My ideas will connect you to the forest and to your roots.

Sunbeams take me to my roots. In our church I sang Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam. That beloved song that sends 3 and 4 year-olds flying off their chairs in a most irreverent fashion. I like things that take me to my roots.

Trying to take care of my body could be compared to trying to catch a sunbeam. It seems like a particle of dust floating around that I can never quite grasp. I have grown in understanding my body and how to make it work for me. Instead of running after all the sunbeams I have allowed them to come rest on me. I hope my thoughts can warm you to your soul like sitting on the damp leaves on a quiet summer morning looking into the acres of forest around you, each tree representing a possibility for your life. You can let my thoughts float around you and see what lands. Some particles instantly disappear into your being because they’re right for you. Anything that’s incorrect for you can float on past. We don’t have to agree on everything to be friends here 😁. Each of us will have a different journey into our own metaphorical forest.

My condition has taken me to dark places. where I have yearned for anything that offered the smallest ray of light. This blog is an effort to stave off the darkness for myself and reach through my own canopy of doubt, for the light others have to share. I will share what I have learned as I have gone out into the forest. You are welcome to sit back and learn or to join me in a forest walk of healing.

I offer validation for anyone who may be suffering with daily, unexplained pain that cannot be treated or found. Hear me now, you are important enough to do whatever you need to do to have your best quality of life. It is worth the effort. There is hope. You are worth the time and when you don’t have the energy, seek support.

And for anyone who knows of my struggle and has ever asked me, So, what do you have? Are you feeling better yet? Or even, What are your symptoms? and I gave a blank stare or a stammered response that’s somewhere between scripted and implausible, this is the whole answer. It’s gonna take me an entire blog to explain myself and how to use the forest and all of nature, that is available to you, to take your own healing to the next level.

With the knowledge I pass on you will hear the story of me and my chronic pain. It is big and diverse. And now I know it’s worth sharing (even if only my mom reads about it)😉!

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