Heal your life. start at 25. start at 45.

Tuesday, 11:58 PM

The clock just hit 11:58 PM, and I just made my way home. I was afraid this story would leave my head before I made it home. I left the Oratoire an hour ago, we just bid someone else goodbye from our transition town.

It takes 1 hour to move from Old Town Geneva to my apartment in Ferney. And between the one hour spent changing into two buses and walking down home accompanied by tree shadows another 15 minutes, a new orange cover oversized book dangling from my bag, and a nostalgic feeling lodging in my heart about a life out there I could be missing, I finally found myself down here writing what might the final piece of a 50 piece series.

The dangling book Is called The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. I dabbled into the epilogue in the bus, covered it again, and instead let the faint light from countryside homes take my sight away as I looked longingly out there for something I could not name.

I pulled off my laptop and started writing immediately I got home. But the thought, as I was afraid, did not put itself into any tangible words to be written down.

Wednesday, 9 PM

Wednesday, after work, I had a long walk with an older lady I recently connected with. In my head, it was supposed to be a planned 60-minute surfing through the green areas in the border villages between France and Switzerland. But it took us 150 minutes -2 hours, 30 minutes and some cancelled meetings between. We found ourselves talking about the same topic that had found its way into a few conversations I had during the week. We found ourselves talking about how we found rest.

This town is crazy. It is designed to have you panic. The jobs. It is designed to take everything you decide to give it from you. And because anxiety is part of the design, people give everything they have to feed this anxiety. One day, they look back and realise they have given so much and there is no going back. The job does not like them anymore and takes them out of the game or they just finally realise they need everything else that has been taken away.

?

Thursday, 6 AM

I am making the last plans to go on a retreat for three days. But I am brought back to the place of beginnings. How did Sanity stop, the art of stopping to rest started for me?

It was an instructive thing that came to me and took a while to start. Everyone around me had known me as strong, hardworking and resourceful. To validate these relationships or even my own sense of worth, I had given everything to everyone except myself. It was the only life that made sense. It made sense because I worked all my life starting from 11. But in 2018, I lost relationships I thought were meaningful, moved from home and was made to face a new life where I could not rely on hard work and sheer tenacity.

It was the most vulnerable I had ever been, but the most life-changing. I was like a fast-moving uncontrollable car and It was the first time I was forced to stop to process everything that had happened in my 25 years old life. To grieve, to love and be kinder to myself, to keep healthy relationships, and most importantly to heal my life in the blazing glare of everyone publicly. So, every newsletter I had ever written up to this 50th one had been just that. Exploring the thoughts I would otherwise feel uncomfortable exploring and finding a fuller and more joyous life through the humility this process brings.

Sanitystop has essentially been for me. I have no doubt it has touched a few lives, but I wish I could say that was its primary aim. It was not. I experimented with the idea of stopping now at 50 letters, but I will get clarity during my retreat.

I know though, that summer is coming and I am dying to write my summer series. I am quite eager to know what topic will lend itself to my attention for 3 months. In 2022, it was about my travel through Europe and my encounters with people. In 2023, it was about my transition story as an international student. This year, what would it be?

Some people found healing through music, some through writing. Through faith. I met two women this week who found crazy ways to connect with their lives and do everything it takes to offer the world a better version of themselves every day. One started at 25, the other at 45. And you? How are you healing your life? Or life has not broken you yet into damnable pieces?