self-compassion – SUNBEAM ACRES

You Are a Success Story

May 26, 2026May 26, 2026 pammunkholm

My physiotherapist, “J,” has been with me through it all.

She has seen me on some of my best days over the past 15 years of working with her.

The day I told her I was finally pregnant with the baby I had tried nearly a decade to conceive.
The day I said, “I’m running again.” After years of pain making even the thought of it feel impossible. My body has approached physical activity like a suspicious cat approaches a cucumber in the past.
She heard me process the long, exhausting teenage years of push and pull with my oldest child. And then my second. Followed by my third. The painful years that felt like emotional whiplash and then she celebrated with me when they all graduated. She understood firmly the mentality of, We did it! On each occasion.
She walked alongside me through buying and selling homes.
When Kenzie got engaged. Jamie transitioned. Riley moved in with his girlfriend.
When all three times I found out I was going to be a grandma, she was one of the first people to know.
When I started a forest therapy business and dared to believe healing could become something I offered others.

She has witnessed joy. Growth. Milestones.

We have laughed together as I walked around in a body that behaved like it’s been assembled from spare parts with vague instructions and one missing screw.

Proof that life can still bloom in hard soil.

And she has also sat with me on some of my worst days.

The day I fell off a boat and we both knew recovery would not be quick.
The years I fought to be taken seriously by medical professionals before finally getting the MRI that revealed my bone spur. Disappointing specialist appointments. Medical gaslighting.
Family job losses.
Kids in car crashes.
The miscarriage of the baby I had fought so hard to conceive. She cried with me that day. And the day I told her I was going ahead with the hysterectomy that closed that door entirely. We were so hopeful that would help my overall health.
Surgeries that did not go well.
The passing of dear friends.
The painful decision to close my business and then Brent’s and eventually to stop working.
Leaving the farm and grieving all that move represented. She understood, she’s a farm girl.
And the appointment Christmas Eve where she examined me and realized something was deeply wrong. I had almost no muscle mass. I was so weak and felt so broken, useless, a waste of skin.

I could write pages about what J and I have discussed over the years. At some point, she became more than someone treating my body. She became someone quietly witnessing my life story unfold.

The size of my kids when I started seeing J

And then one ordinary appointment changed how I saw myself.

It started like any other. I explained where the pain was. What had shifted in my workouts. What stress was doing to my body. What daily life had looked like since we last met.

She examined me, worked through familiar areas of tension, and after a moment of silence she said something I think applies to all my chronic comrades:

“You’re a success story. Do you know that?”

My first instinct is always to deflect a compliment.

I think you have me confused with someone whose joints aren’t held together by determination and prayer alone.

But it felt true. It felt like the most true diagnosis I’d ever been given.

She continued, (and I want you to see yourself in this,)

When you look at where you’ve been on your lowest days and where you are now. This is a success story.

You could have closed the doors on life. Stayed in bed. Turned inward. Leaned into fear of the future. You could choose to live frustrated and depressed. White-knuckling your way through existence.

But instead, you keep rebuilding. You keep getting stronger. No matter what knocks you down, you come back.

Like one of those punching balloons from childhood. The ones you smack into the floor and somehow they pop right back up, mildly annoying and aggressively optimistic.

I have a core memory of my cousin’s party. They had one of those balloons in the backyard. As I played with it I wondered what was inside that made it keep popping up.

If resilience had a mascot, I might nominate a half-inflated punching balloon and a woman with heating pads.

J was right though. That’s me. That’s you.

What is it that’s inside us that keeps us popping up, time after time?

Not graceful. Not elegant. Occasionally leaking air. But still coming back up.

Again. And again. And again.

J encouraged me to start writing it down. My story. To let others read it. And that is where this blog began.

A success story, heavily disguised as a challenging life story.

Chronic Pain Does Not Stay in One Box

If you live with chronic pain, you understand this. Pain does not politely stay in your shoulder. Or your spine. Or your hips. Or your joints.

It leaks. It spreads.

It enters your sleep, your patience, your relationships, your finances, your confidence, your work, your parenting, and your identity.

It is never just physical.

The dis-ease spreads just like disease. Not because we are weak. But because pain is invasive.

Scars are not signs of weakness, they are signs of survival.

Yet many people living with chronic pain quietly continue. They raise children. Show up to work. Try to exercise. Cook supper. Pay bills. Care for aging parents. Smile through appointments (and cry after.) Fold laundry while wondering why their body feels like it was assembled by a distracted Ikea employee.

And still… they continue.

That is not failure. That is resilience. That is success.

Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

–JK Rowling

The Exhaustion of Not Being Believed

One of the hardest parts of chronic pain is not always the pain itself. Sometimes it is the disbelief. Unfortunately, this can include close family members. Friends. Employers.

And yes, medical professionals.

When symptoms are invisible, people often assume they are exaggerated. If scans are unclear, they question your tolerance. If you “look fine,” they assume you must be fine.

And so many of us become defenders. Explainers. Evidence gatherers.

Trying desperately to prove that our pain is real. Trying to earn validation. Trying to convince others that suffering exists even when they cannot see it.

But constant defense is exhausting.

As Dallin H. Oaks said:

When attacked by error, truth is better served by silence than by a bad argument.

That quote hit me.

We do not need to defend ourselves from every misunderstanding. Not every person deserves access to our explanations. Not every accusation needs a rebuttal. Not every skeptical glance deserves our emotional energy.

There is a time to inform. And there is a time to walk away.

Never wrestle with pigs. You both get dirty and the pig likes it.

–George Bernard Shaw

Silence is not surrender. Sometimes silence is strength. Sometimes it is peace. Sometimes it is refusing to spend precious energy proving your pain to people committed to misunderstanding it.

Do not explain. Your friends do not need it, and your enemies will not believe you.

–Elbert Hubbard

You Are a Success Story Too

If you live with chronic pain and still carry on…

You are a success story.

If you’ve had to explain your pain as a weird hip or angry neck. Here is your medal in interpretive medicine 🏅…

And you are a success story.

If, like my friend described it, you have been blindsided at a medical appointment and you keep seeking your answers…

You are a success story.

If you got out of bed today and every day, despite exhaustion…

You are a success story.

If you parent through pain…

You are a success story.

If you grieve what your body once was while still learning to care for the body you have now…

You are a success story.

If you feel misunderstood. Lesser. Frustrated. Invisible. You are still a success story.

Do not let anyone take that from you.

You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice.

–Bob Marley

A Forest Therapy Practice: Seeing Yourself in the Landscape

One of the most grounding practices I return to comes from forest therapy.

Take a small mirror with you into nature.

Stand among trees.

Or beneath open sky.

Hold the mirror so your reflection appears framed by branches, clouds, leaves, or light.

Look at yourself. Really look. See your face inside the larger landscape. Notice how you are not separate from nature. You belong here too.

Then ask yourself:

Where was I a year ago?

What have I survived?

How far have I come?

What strength still exists in me?

Appreciate where you are now. Not because healing is complete. But because progress deserves to be witnessed. And because you still have what it takes to continue.

Rivers don’t apologize for moving slowly at some points on their path.

Seasons do not shame themselves for resting.

Maybe we shouldn’t either.

My Success Story Is Still Being Written

I used to think success had to look polished. Strong. Linear. Easy to explain. Now I know better.

Sometimes success looks like rebuilding muscle. Sometimes it looks like surviving grief. Sometimes it looks like asking for help. Sometimes it looks like walking instead of running. Sometimes it looks like closing one chapter when life forces your hand. Sometimes it looks like bouncing back up like an emotionally exhausted inflatable clown with stubborn determination.

I have bounced back like a plastic bag caught in a prairie wind.

Messy. Crooked. Still rising. Still trying.

And maybe that is enough.

Actually

Maybe that is extraordinary.

You are a success story.

If pain has tried to rewrite your life and you still continue…

🫵 You are a success story.

And don’t you forget it. 😉

The Impact of Self Compassion and Forest Therapy on Chronic Illness

April 15, 2025 pammunkholm

Blooms break forth from the startled earth. The sky laughs. The trees, abashed, dress themselves in verdant green.

-Rick Yancey

Embracing Your Inner Warrior and Cuddle Bug

Have you heard of fierce self compassion? I have been reading Dr. Kristin Neff’s books. I have learned enough that I think I can convey some of what she teaches. In her research on self compassion, Dr. Neff has become the expert in her field. She has an innate ability to speak to the individual. In a way that is both calming and empowering. I highly recommend her as an author. Her work can be found at self-compassion.org. Stick around to learn about self compassion. And to answer these questions: Why is self compassion significant in healing chronic pain? And how is forest therapy a good support for this type of practice?

Do you know anyone that would gain from a lesson in self compassion? Share this post with them. Hook them up with my social media. And then plan to attend a forest therapy walk together with them in the next week or two. We are so close 😄! Click below to see what forest therapy walks are available so you are ready to book.

forest therapy walks

Nurturing Self-Compassion Through Sensory Awareness

Self compassion comes in many forms. Tactile- running your fingers along the back on your arms, getting the right temperature, pressure from a weighted blanket. Something fuzzy or squishy. Visual- lower the lights in the evening and in a bath, candle light. playing with colors. Auditory- listen to the music or nature sounds that lift your soul. Olfactory- what EO scent helps you feel balanced. Gustatory- a multitude of options from water to ice cream to tea, find what fills this sense for you. In filling these needs for myself, I have noticed a growing sense of self compassion. And it has been a support to me in healing all things chronic.

Note: to me, healing and cure are not the same. healing gets me to a place of functioning. i do not expect a cure in this life. but i would take one if offered. healing takes time. and doing the right stuff. that’s what i’m talking about here.

Another sense that I didn’t realize existed until recently. And I really didn’t pay any attention to it at all. Is interoception. That is my ability to understand the signals my body is giving me internally. For example, hunger, thirst, feeling full, relaxing tense muscles and calming a racing heart. I ignored my interoception signals as a mom of young boys. I prided myself on being able to hold a full bladder all day. Getting to the end of a day and realizing I hadn’t eaten anything. Or had anything to drink. I had to train this sense to be felt again. I had tucked it away but it is important to the overall health and function of my body.

Bursting at the Seams: The Threat of Overcapacity

Another internal neighborhood watch, if you will, is paying attention to my capacity. Knowing it is less at this stage of my life. At home. I only need to take care of myself, I still have a capacity to take on more. I add my family and my home. I am getting up there but all is still well. I add service and church responsibilities. Almost at capacity. Once I hit capacity, I experience emotions like overwhelm. Irritability. Exhaustion. Anxiety.

To decrease the overflowing emotions I can stop taking on anything else until things normalize. I can take a close look at what I have taken on and get rid of non-essentials. I can find the people that have a capacity to support me. Hand them some of what is making me overflow. I can look at specific issues that are in the overflow and problem solve how to manage them. What is in my control and what should I do to have a positive influence on those things? Through it all I speak kindly to myself which also keeps the capacity from boiling over.

Achieving Balance: Three Wins for Success

Dr. Neff’s research has proven that to thrive and find a sense of wholeness in our lives. We need to find a balance between tender and fierce self compassion. In our tender compassion. We recognize that in accepting ourselves, we alleviate our own suffering. This type of compassion leads to inner healing. Our fierce self compassion alternatively, provides a springboard for taking action. We draw boundaries by learning when to say no. We recognize our needs and learn where to say yes. We are motivated in our growth to reach out and have an impact on our world and those around us. This type of change leads to outer healing. It all starts with that balance between tender and fierce self compassion.

Self compassion includes finding ways to meet our own individual needs. To provide for our needs we should set up our day to experience at least three wins. A physical, a mental and a spiritual win.

A physical win can look like a forest therapy walk! Drinking enough water. Eating nourishing meals and getting enough sleep. Deep breathing.

Mental wins can look like reading a book that inspires or educates you. Writing in your journal. Organize an uplifting playlist and enjoy. Or catch up on a podcast or TED talk that can get you to your next level. And here again we can list forest therapy as a mental win. Declutter a space or meditate to clear up some head space.

Spiritual wins are my favorite. Praying or setting intentions for the day. Hey, wouldn’t ya know, a forest therapy walk and spending time enjoying and appreciating nature also hits a spiritual win! Reflect at the end of your days.

The Power of Self-Compassion in the Chronic Illness World: A Gentle Uprising

Not Okay

I am not okay today. 
So, in the absence of okay, 
what can I be?
I can be gentle.
I can be unashamed.
I can turn my pain into connection.
I can be a student of stillness.
I can be awake to nature.
I can sharpen my empathy
against the stone of my discomfort.

I am not okay.
but I am many worthy things. 

-Jarod K Anderson (the CryptoNaturalist)

Some nights, the soul weeps louder than the eyes ever could.

-Edgar Allan Poe

There is a weird phenomenon in the world of the chronically ill. It is the place of the in between. A place between too sick to function and not sick enough to get support. You almost puke but you don’t. Your muscles cramp so bad you almost can’t stand. But you can. You always have pain but it’s not always awful. There is no surgery that will fix it. There is no research being done on it. Because there is a lack of belief that this exists. You forget EVERYTHING, but everyone is forgetful. Your BP is low but not low enough to treat it. Your anxiety is high but they say just manage it. You want answers but doctors don’t think there is one. Have you ever wished you were more sick so you at least have the benefit of a desire for understanding?

Self compassion here says I am just the right amount. For today. I am sick and I can rest even if others don’t understand. I won’t puke but my nausea is enough to be gentle with myself. When my muscles cramp I will take care of them. When there is pain, no matter the level, I will not be upset. I can be tender and inquisitive.

☝🏼 A close look at how symptoms can come out of nowhere and knock you off the couch. ☝🏼

I DON'T LOOK SICK

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but my legs will often feel like wet spaghetti and will go numb and give out on me without warning.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but I live with an intense deep exhaustion that makes every movement feel like I'm trying to move at the bottom of the ocean.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but I suffer from an extremely sensitive heat intolerance that makes me feel light headed, ill and faint even in what feels like a normal room temperature to you.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but my nerves often give me "phantom itches" that make me scratch myself raw at an itch that doesn't actually exist.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but inside, my bones often feel like someone is using a jackhammer on them, especially during a change in weather.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but if anything, even something little, stresses or worries me, my body rebels and symptoms flare up just for the fun of it.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but it's extremely difficult for me to concentrate on anything, and as a result my memory suffers drastically.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but the simplest tasks can take me 5 times longer and takes 5 times as much energy to finish that a "normal" person.

I DON'T LOOK SICK, but you'll never know the struggle beneath the surface.

I have been dealing with chronic pain for a while now. There have been weeks where all I could do was lay down. That leaves a lot of time for thinking. I know my thoughts can create my reality. So I want to be careful with them. Since learning this painful lesson I have seen my life blossom as a result.

Over the last few years I have seen my tears turn to blossoms of understanding. Self compassion and holding a space for myself at all of the stages of healing has been critical. At times I can look back and see tender self compassion. When the tears would flow. And I would be okay with it. I would not hold back. Other times I can see evident in my behavior the fierce self compassion that Dr. Neff talks about. Where I learned to set boundaries and how to recognize my own needs. To act for my own best outcome.

In motu, veritas: blooms after the storm. When have you experienced this type of growth?

When all I can see ahead are endless days of pain, I need to take a step back. I know in those times I am getting lost in the weeds of my thoughts. I find a better look out spot and get a sense of what is important. What is true. What is helpful. And the rest is weeded out. This is most likely to happen when I have not set myself as the priority and I need to recalibrate. Self compassion is the key to start the process.

I hope you find time to be happy. Not just strong.

-Louise Kaufman

Life with chronic pain is demanding. But with a combination of fierce and tender self compassion, balance is restored and hope is renewed.

So many days can feel like a struggle. Remember to find something to laugh about and someone to laugh with.

Maybe you could give me a hug and slowly loosen your hold and then you could tell me what my blood pressure is.

I just had a discussion with a friend the other day. We both excelled in school. Yet we struggle in life. Due to chronic illness. We had such high hopes being that we read significantly higher than our grade level. Surely that’s the number one marker for success in later life. This is regrettably not the case. Well that’s a fine how do you do!

The Wonder of Forest Therapy: A New Edge on Chronic Illness Relief

I love the idea of collecting sunsets. In a jar! What can you collect in your forest therapy this season? Campfire collection. Rainbow collection. Starlight collection. Wildlife collection. You can take a mental picture. Sketch it in a journal. Take an actual photograph or video. It does not need to be posted on social media to make it valid. This is your collection. Find what works for you.

When we go for a forest walk together I can offer invitations such as the following.

Forest bathe at sunrise or sunset. Find a good perch and invite the sun into the day. Or tuck it into bed at night.
Bring your journal and sketch any signs of spring that you see.
Dedicate a part of your walk to gratitude, what do you see on your walk that gives you a sense of gratitude

SUSURROUS (adj)- full of whispering sounds

Can you find a susurrous space that enhances your forest experience?

Personal Benefits of Forest Therapy and Self Compassion

I can not put into words the how or the why of forest therapy for pain relief and chronic illness. I can direct you to the work of Kristin Neff for the how and why of self compassion. And I can speak by experience that I am getting my life back as I practice both. As I learn and practice forest therapy. Is it worth the effort for you to try it? Perhaps you will get your life back too.

As we practice compassion for ourselves remember to be kind to one another. We never know what the other is going through. As women, our bodies and our brains go through a lot. Chronic illness, pain and fatigue are a lot. And we all have that one chin hair that we are locked in a lifelong skirmish with. Give each other grace. Enjoy the tale of this Grace 👇🏼 and her way to self compassion. And remember to laugh! Have a great week my chronic comrades!