Living on the Edge of Pain-Free

I feel unbalanced living in a body that looks perfectly capable of holding itself together. When the truth is, it can do nothing of the sort.

I mean this in more ways than one. I am physically unbalanced more often than I am balanced. This is due to my very unstable joints.

And then I look around and see the life I formed to manage this body, that it is in opposition to the rest of the world. Making emotional balance feel next to impossible.

I can walk. I can hike. I can play with my grandchildren.

I can carry things, bend down, climb over things I probably shouldnโ€™t climb over and occasionally convince myself that I am a completely normal person who has this whole body thing figured out.

And then someone leans against me. Or my dog steps on my foot. Or I turn slightly to walk around someone. Or I roll an ankle on a trail.

And suddenly I become a sack of bones doing their best, more than that of a functioning skeleton.

When your body is a little too enthusiastic about movement

I live with hypermobile joints.

Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS) is one of the conditions that can fall under the hypermobility spectrum. It is a connective tissue disorder associated with generalized joint hypermobility, joint instability, chronic musculoskeletal pain and a collection of other fun features.

There isnโ€™t currently a laboratory test that simply says, Yep. Youโ€™ve got it. Diagnosis is clinical and involves looking at the whole person rather than one isolated symptom. (The Ehlers Danlos Society)

Hypermobility isnโ€™t simply being unusually flexible. It isnโ€™t about being the kid who could put her feet behind her head. Or fold her eyelids inside out. It isnโ€™t a party trick.

(That doesnโ€™t mean I canโ€™t do the tricks)

For some of us, the problem isnโ€™t that our joints can move farther than everyone elseโ€™s. Itโ€™s that sometimes they keep going when weโ€™d really prefer they didnโ€™t. Past what tendons can protect and ligaments can control.

My joints can be remarkably cooperative about leaving their assigned positions.

For example:

My grandson wanted to show me something the other day. He leaned over me, and his little elbow dug into my ribs.

His little elbow. My adult rib. Click!

Three days after my physiotherapist put me back together.

She and I have a standing monthly appointment.

So now I wait. 27 days.

Because correcting too often in a case like mine can make the problem far worse.

This is not the life I expected. But itโ€™s my life.

There are other examples.

Trying to walk around someone and somehow putting bones out in my foot. ๐Ÿฆถ๐Ÿคจ

Playing with my granddaughter when she decided to give me a little shove and those ribs that love to move, eagerly allowed her to rearrange them. ๐Ÿฉป ๐Ÿ˜‘

My dog stepping on my foot and somehow moving everything around. ๐Ÿ• ๐Ÿฆถ

Going hiking and rolling my ankle, spraining various parts and pieces of myself while trying to enjoy the great outdoors. ๐Ÿฅพ ๐Ÿ˜ฃ

These examples are only the tip of the iceberg. They have all happened in the past few months.

I love my family. Most of the time I love my dog. I love hiking.

I do not love constant pain. Therefore, I would like to formally request to be encased in bubble wrap. (Unfortunately my physio says thatโ€™s not a viable option either.)

Antara

(Sanskrit) The space between what you feel and what you show.

The problem with explaining pain nobody can see

One of the hardest things about chronic pain is explaining something that doesnโ€™t have an obvious beginning, middle and end.

There is an injury.

There is pain.

There is a scan.

There is treatment.

There is recovery. Hooray!

But when this isnโ€™t the progression.

There is pain, but the imaging doesnโ€™t explain the pain.

Joints are unstable but this doesnโ€™t show up neatly on a picture.

The answer is essentially, Everything looks normal.

When you get stuck in an endless loop of injury, pain, scan. Nothing. Injury, pain, scan. Nothingโ€ฆ

You begin to wonder if maybe you are the problem.

Maybe youโ€™re exaggerating. ๐Ÿค”

Maybe youโ€™re weak. ๐Ÿ˜”

Maybe youโ€™re just sensitive. ๐Ÿ˜ข

Maybe you should exercise more. ๐Ÿƒโ€โ™€๏ธ

Maybe you should exercise less. ๐Ÿ˜ฃ

Maybe you need to think positively. ๐Ÿ˜ƒ

Maybe you need to stop thinking about it. ๐Ÿง˜โ€โ™€๏ธ

Meanwhile, your body is sitting there like:

I would love to participate in this discussion, but unfortunately my rib muscles are currently screaming so loudly I canโ€™t hear anything else.

A diagnosis doesnโ€™t magically make pain disappear.

But a name can change something.

There is power in having a name

There is something different about being able to say:

I have hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome.

Instead of:

โ€œWell, Iโ€™ve had pain for years, and my joints move too far, and sometimes things come out of place, and my muscles have to work really hard to stabilize everything, and I have all these other weird things going on, and I know it sounds strange, butโ€ฆโ€

A name is shorter. A name means someone believed you.

A name is understoodโ€ฆ sometimes. Which is better than never.

A name gives your experience a place to stand.

It can feel like a credential for suffering. ๐Ÿชช

Not because suffering needs a certificate. It shouldnโ€™t.

But because there is a difference in saying, This is a recognized condition, instead of feeling as though you have to build a courtroom case every time you describe what your body is doing.

And there is another thing a name gives you:

Other people.

You discover that there are other people who understand why walking across a parking lot can sometimes feel like an athletic event.

People who know what it means to have a joint suddenly become unreliable.

People who have learned the pain in I hurt myself again.

People who donโ€™t need the entire history before they understand the sentence.

There is comfort in that shorthand.

There is camaraderie in saying, Wait, thatโ€™s normal?

Skin that flaps under an automated hand dryer. Feeling like your brain is being jostled when you run. Those are normal in some circles?!?

Even the measuring stick is changing

For years, one of the tools used to assess generalized joint hypermobility has been the Beighton score.

It is a nine-point scale based on whether certain joints, such as little fingers, thumbs, elbows, knees and the spine, move beyond particular ranges. Under the current criteria, the score is used as a screening measure for generalized joint hypermobility. (The Ehlers Danlos Society)

But there is a problem with measuring an entire complicated body by asking a handful of joints to perform five tricks.

What about the hips?

The shoulders?

The feet?

The jaw?

What about joints that used to be hypermobile but have become stiffer because youโ€™ve spent years protecting them?

What about the person whose biggest problems arenโ€™t located in the nine places being measured?

Researchers involved in the international Road to 2026 project have been examining these limitations. An expanded assessment that looks at four additional joints is being studied alongside the Beighton score, and the hEDS/HSD diagnostic framework. Even the way generalized hypermobility is assessed is being reconsidered. (The Ehlers Danlos Society)

The new international classification is expected to be published in December 2026, replacing the 2017 criteria. The Ehlers-Danlos Society has said the classification publication is scheduled for December 2, with best-practice care guidance expected in March 2027. (The Ehlers Danlos Society)

So even the measuring stick is being re-examined.

I find that hopeful.

I am currently diagnosed with generalized joint hypermobility. But that doesnโ€™t tell the whole story.

I look forward to the updated measuring stick. Not because I need a better score.

But because science is admitting that perhaps the way weโ€™ve been measuring this isnโ€™t telling the whole story.

Sometimes the person doesnโ€™t fit the measuring tool.

That doesnโ€™t necessarily mean the person is wrong.

Sometimes the measuring tool needs work.

A diagnosis doesnโ€™t make you more real

This is something I have to remind myself of.

With the diagnostic criteria change, I donโ€™t suddenly become more or less in pain.

If my score changes, my ribs donโ€™t politely and apologetically fall back in line.

If the medical community discovers a better way to describe hypermobility, my body doesnโ€™t suddenly become easier to manage.

A diagnosis can give language to an experience.

It can open doors.

It can help doctors understand.

It can connect you with other people.

It can change treatment.

It can stop some of the exhausting explaining.

But it doesnโ€™t create the suffering.

The suffering was already there.

A label doesnโ€™t make the pain real. It gives the pain somewhere to be understood.

Living on the edge of pain-free

I think this is one of the most striking things about chronic illness.

I donโ€™t necessarily live in constant unbearable pain.

Sometimes I almost feel good. I have gone pain- free for as long as a few days and as short as a few hours after a physiotherapist appointment.

Close enough that I start thinking, Maybe Iโ€™m finally getting somewhere.

Maybe this is the week.

Maybe my body is settling down.

Maybe I can do a little more.

Maybe I can hike a little farther.

Maybe I can play a little longer.

Maybe I can just live normally.

And then something happens.

A foot.

A rib.

An ankle.

A muscle.

A joint.

Something reminds me that normal is still a little outside my reach.

I live on the edge of pain-free.

I can see it.

I can sometimes almost touch it.

But I can never quite get there.

Some days this feels draining.

Some days it is really frustrating.

Because I donโ€™t want to spend my life carefully negotiating with my skeleton.

I want to pick up my grandchildren without calculating angles.

I want to walk around someone without wondering whether my foot is going to object.

I want to hike without wondering which part of me will need time to heal after this.

I want to live. Not perfectly. Just freely.

So what does forest therapy have to do with a body like this?

Forest therapy doesnโ€™t ask my body to perform.

There is no gold star for going farther. ๐ŸŒŸ

No prize for walking fastest.

No requirement to conquer the trail.

And perhaps most importantly, there is no expectation that I have to force my body into being something it isnโ€™t.

One of my favourite practices for hypermobility is sensory noticing while walking slowly.

Not hiking.

Walking.

There is a difference.

I can take a few steps and notice what my feet are telling me.

Not to judge them.

Or correct them.

Just notice.

Where is the ground?

What does the trail feel like beneath my shoes?

Am I gripping with my toes?

Am I locking my knees?

Am I holding my shoulders up around my ears?

Is there a place where I can soften?

Can I take one smaller step?

Can I pause?

Can I let the forest set the pace rather than my ambition?

And if my body says, Thatโ€™s enough, then enough is enough.

Sometimes forest therapy means sitting on a bench while everyone else keeps walking.

Sometimes it means five minutes instead of an hour.

Sometimes it means finding a tree and letting myself simply be near it.

The forest doesnโ€™t seem disappointed in me.

It doesnโ€™t say, You used to walk farther.

It doesnโ€™t say, Try harder. As though I just need a little more motivation.

It doesnโ€™t say, But you look fine. Making me feel like I need to act fine too.

It just keeps being a forest.

Maybe the goal isnโ€™t to reach pain-free

Maybe the goal is to build a life that still has room for joy while living with a body that requires extra care.

That isnโ€™t giving up. It isnโ€™t settling.

It isnโ€™t saying, Well, I guess this is all my life will ever be.

It is learning a different definition of living.

I can be frustrated and grateful at the same time.

I can wish my joints were more reliable and still love the body that carries me through the woods.

I can be tired of pain without being hopeless.

I can want better treatment without believing my life is on hold until I get it.

And I can laugh with my grandson after he accidentally rearranges my ribs.

Eventually. Not immediately. But eventually.

Because sometimes humour is the little bit of space between this is ridiculous and this is my life.

And I want that space. I want the hikes. The grandchildren. The dog. The trees.

The ordinary moments that donโ€™t require a medical explanation.

I want to keep noticing what my body can do without pretending that what it canโ€™t do doesnโ€™t matter.

Maybe thatโ€™s the hope.

Not that one day my body will become uncomplicated.

Maybe the goal is simply to stop waiting for a pain-free life before recognizing that a meaningful one is also valuable.

My body may keep moving the goalposts. Iโ€™m learning that I can still choose to keep getting up.

And for today, thatโ€™s enough.


Note: This post is about my lived experience and is not medical advice. Hypermobile EDS and other hypermobility conditions are complex, and diagnosis should be made by an appropriately qualified healthcare professional. The international EDS/HSD diagnostic criteria are being updated in 2026, so some of the information and terminology around diagnosis may change when the new classification is published. (The Ehlers Danlos Society)

What Does My Soul Need Today?

I have a confession.

I hear the word retreat and my brain starts packing a bag.

Preferably for somewhere with trees, a mountain, a few trails and nobody asking me whatโ€™s for dinner.

A retreat sounds lovely.

It also sounds like something that requires time, money, planning, a reservation, and quite possibly a whole new wardrobe.

But what if retreat doesnโ€™t have to be a big event?

What if it can be ten minutes? A half hour? Or an afternoon?

What if you donโ€™t have to go anywhere?

Iโ€™ve been reading Caroline Sylgeโ€™s How to Retreat, and I love the idea that retreat can be much more accessible than we tend to make it. A retreat can be a deliberate step away from the noise of ordinary life, and it can look very different depending on what you need.

Which got me thinking about a question I probably need to ask myself more often:

What does my soul need today?

Not what does my calendar say? Not what am I behind on? Not what would make me feel impressively productive?

What does my soul need today?

And sometimes the answer is surprisingly simple.

ฤ€loka

Sanskrit and Pali. Meaning light, brightness, vision or enlightenment. When something inside you finally becomes clear.

Yesterday, apparently, my soul needed to get rained on.

I woke up thinking I should go to the gym.

That meant walking there, working out, and walking home again.

Then I looked outside. It was cloudy and raining.

My immediate response was something along the lines of, Excellent. Perhaps I shall simply allow these blankets to absorb me.

But eventually I got myself moving. Rain gear on. Out the door.

Only a few minutes from home, I noticed something. I was enjoying the rain. I could feel it on my hands. I could hear it hitting my hood. The air smelled different. The whole world seemed quieter.

By the time I reached the gym, I was more than ready to move.

I hadnโ€™t needed to convince myself. I just needed to get outside long enough for my nervous system to catch up with the plan.

Sometimes we donโ€™t need a retreat just a walk in the rain on the way to the gym. And sometimes we need the gym.

Thatโ€™s the tricky thing about asking what your soul needs.

The answer isnโ€™t always rest.

Sometimes it is movement. Adventure. Solitude. People. A nap. Fresh air.

The micro-retreat

I think this is where the idea of a micro-retreat joins well with the idea of forest therapy.

We have somehow managed to turn rest into another achievement.

Apparently we need the perfect location, the perfect playlist, the perfect journal, the perfect candle and three uninterrupted hours to properly relax.

I would like to formally announce this is unnecessary protocol.

Your retreat can be tiny. You could put a plant on your desk. Turn on a little water feature. Put your phone somewhere you canโ€™t see it.

Sit there for ten minutes. Listen. Look. Breathe.

Thatโ€™s it!

You have not travelled anywhere. Your bank balance remains unchanged. No achieved enlightenment. But you stepped outside the usual stream of demands.

That counts.

And tomorrow, your retreat might look completely different.

Maybe you need to sit in a cozy chair and read. Or wander for thirty minutes through a park while the leaves are turning. Perhaps you have enough energy for a three-hour mindful walk through the forest. Or just enough energy to sit on a bench and watch water move.

All valid needs.

Forest therapy makes room for all of this

One of the things I love about forest therapy is that there isnโ€™t a mileage requirement.

Nobody hands you a medal at the end because you managed to walk seven kilometres while being mindful.

You donโ€™t have to conquer the forest. You donโ€™t even have to walk very far.

The forest isnโ€™t a treadmill with better scenery. Itโ€™s an invitation to slow down and notice.

And the beautiful thing is that you can scale that invitation to whatever your life (and your body) can manage.

Nature can be a forest. It can also be a tree outside your door. A houseplant. A garden. Rain on your hood. The sound of a creek. Ten minutes watching birds. A patch of grass.

There is some pretty fascinating neuroscience behind this.

We donโ€™t have to make nature complicated. Sometimes we just need to stop long enough to realize it is there.

Your brain might thank you

Our brains spend a tremendous amount of time directing attention, filtering distractions, making decisions and responding to demands.

Nature seems to give that hard-working attention system a bit of a vacation.

Researchers call one part of this soft fascination.

Instead of forcing yourself to concentrate on something, your attention gets gently captured by things like moving leaves, clouds, birds, water or sunlight.

You arenโ€™t doing nothing. Your brain just isnโ€™t working quite so hard at doing everything.

A 2025 systematic review and meta-analysis found that nature exposure was, on average, more cognitively restorative than non-nature exposure, particularly for working memory and attentional control. Interestingly, around 30 minutes appeared to be a particularly useful window in the studies they examined.

And a 2026 review looking across 108 neuroimaging studies found evidence of changes in brain networks involved in stress, attention and self-referential processing following exposure to natural environments.

Now, before we all start dumping our meds out the window, putting a houseplant beside our bed and declaring ourselves neurologically healed, a little caution is appropriate.

This is promising research, though not a magic prescription.

Studies differ in their methods, environments and participants, and researchers are still figuring out exactly what kinds of nature experiences work best, for whom, and for how long.

But the evidence is increasingly pointing in an interesting direction:

Getting away from the constant demands on our attention may actually give our brains some room to recover.

And I will happily take more reasons to go sit in the sun.

What if creativity is the point?

Unused creativity is not benign. It metastasizes. It turns into grief, rage, judgment, sorrow, shame.

-Brene Brown

This is another part of Sylgeโ€™s thinking that really caught my attention.

Creativity can be part of the retreat.

But it can also be what comes out of the retreat.

Sometimes you retreat because you need to write.

Other times you finally get quiet enough for the idea youโ€™ve been carrying around in your head to come knocking.

Maybe you take photographs or write or sketch or paint.

Maybe you start noticing colours, shapes, textures and tiny details you normally walk straight past.

You donโ€™t have to be an artist. You donโ€™t have to produce anything profound.

Take a picture of a leaf because you like the way it looks. Write three sentences. Draw a tree that looks like a potato. Itโ€™s okay! The potato tree has value.

The point isnโ€™t necessarily to create something impressive.

The creative act may simply be another way of paying attention.

And sometimes, when we stop trying so hard, something unexpectedly creative finds its way through.

My Micro-Retreat Menu

So, if you are wondering what retreat might look like today, here are a few possibilities.

๐ŸŒฑ 5 minutes: Find one living thing. Look at it properly. Notice something youโ€™ve never noticed before.

๐Ÿ’ง 10 minutes: Sit beside water. Real water is excellent. Tiny tabletop water feature? Also acceptable.

๐Ÿ“– 20 minutes: Make yourself a cozy space and read. No multitasking. No โ€œIโ€™ll just check one thing.โ€

๐Ÿ‚ 30 minutes: Take a slow seasonal wander. Notice what has changed.

๐Ÿ“ท 45 minutes: Take your camera and photograph whatever catches your attention. No theme required.

๐ŸŽจ 60 minutes: Write, draw, photograph, paint, collage, doodle. Follow your curiosity.

๐ŸŒฒ 2โ€“3 hours: Go into the forest. Walk slowly. Sit down. Listen. Notice. Journal. Rest. Let the experience unfold instead of trying to accomplish it.

And then there is:

๐Ÿ›‹๏ธ The โ€œmy body has votedโ€ retreat: Stay home. Make tea. Read. Listen to rain. Look out the window. Rest without turning it into a failure.

Because sometimes the most mindful thing you can do is listen when your body says no.

Aging is when your brain says, โ€œWe ride at dawn.โ€ And your body says, โ€œWe absolutely do not.

Retreat so you have something to give

There is another aspect of this that I think gets overlooked.

We donโ€™t retreat only so we can feel better. Sometimes we retreat so we can return. Because when weโ€™re depleted, we donโ€™t have much left to offer anyone.

Our patience gets shorter. Our creativity dries up. Everything feels like one more demand.

And sometimes we need to step away. Not because we donโ€™t love people, but because we do.

Iโ€™ve written about this before in A Grid of Love and Light, because I believe our light is meant to reach beyond ourselves.

But we canโ€™t shine indefinitely on an empty tank. Sometimes we need to step back and replenish. Not so we can become more productive. So that we can return with a little more presence.

A little more patience. Creativity. Light.

So ask the question

Before you automatically do what you always do, stop for a moment.

Put down the phone. Look out the window. Take a breath. And ask yourself:

What does my soul need today?

Maybe it needs a forest. Or rain. Perhaps a workout. Or a book. Maybe it needs creativity. Or a friend. Maybe solitude. Or ten quiet minutes beside a plant.

Maybe it needs to crawl back under the covers and put out a Do Not Disturb sign for the world.

The answer doesnโ€™t have to be the same tomorrow.

Thatโ€™s the beauty of it.

A retreat doesnโ€™t have to be a place. It can be a response.

A response to what your body needs. What your mind needs. What your soul needs.

And perhaps the goal isnโ€™t to retreat far enough away that we become someone else. Perhaps it is simply to step out of the noise long enough to remember who we already are.

You donโ€™t have to escape your entire life. You can simply step out of it for a little while.