Emotional and Spiritual Healing: A Real Conversation From My Heart

Emotional and Spiritual Healing: Real, Life-Changing Guidance

If we were sitting together right now, maybe with coffee or tea between us, and you asked me, “Tara, what has emotional and spiritual healing really been like for you?”

I would not give you a formula.

I would probably pause, look you in the eye, and say…

“It has been messy, holy, ordinary, painful, beautiful. All at once.”

Healing has never felt like a straight line to me.
Some days, I wake up peaceful and grounded.
Other days, I feel like I am holding myself together with a rubber band and a prayer.

For a long time, I thought healing meant staying positive. Smile. Be grateful. Keep going. Help everyone. Do not fall apart.

So I got really good at looking like I was fine.

But my body knew I was not fine. My heart knew I was not fine.
And life has a funny way of catching up with the truth.

There came a point where the feelings I kept stuffing down started to show up in my sleep, in my health, in my relationships, in those quiet moments when the house was still, and I could not distract myself anymore.

That is when my healing really started.
Not when things looked good.
When I finally stopped running from myself.

Maybe you know this place too.

On the outside, people might say you are strong, capable, and dependable.
  You get things done. You show up.
  Inside, you feel tired in a way that a weekend off does not fix.
  You are there for everyone, but you are not sure how to be there for yourself.

If any of that feels familiar, I want you to hear me.
  There is nothing wrong with you.
  You are not broken.
  You are simply at a doorway.

That doorway is where healing begins.

Learning To Listen To Myself

Let me tell you something very simple that has helped me more than any book or podcast.

I started paying attention.

Most mornings, before the world gets loud, I like to sit while it is still quiet. Sometimes on the patio. Sometimes by a window. Sometimes just at the kitchen table with a mug cupped in both hands.

I sit there and ask myself

“What is really here this morning?”

Not what should be here.
Not what I wish I felt.
What is actually here!

Sometimes the answer is sadness.
Sometimes it is anger that I thought I had already “worked through.”
Sometimes it is fear.
Sometimes it is numbness, which used to scare me the most.

I put my hand on my heart and let myself feel it.
I do not try to give it a quote. I do not try to be wise.
I just sit with myself the way I would sit with a friend.

That is emotional and spiritual healing for me.
Not some big shining moment, but a hundred small moments where I stop abandoning myself.

Over time, I realized something important.
My emotions were not my enemy.
They were signals.
Little notes from my soul, saying

“Something needs your love here.”

What Healing Really Looks Like In Everyday Life

Let me just say this clearly. Healing is not pretty most of the time.

It looked like me crying in the car after holding it together in a room full of people.
It has looked like saying “No” to things I would have automatically said yes to, and then feeling guilty, and then choosing to honor the no anyway.

 It has looked like telling the truth in a conversation and feeling my heart pound so hard I could hear it in my ears.

And often, it has shown up in my body before my mind could explain anything.

Tight shoulders.
Stomach in a knot.
Jaw locked.
Breath stuck up in my chest.

For years, I ignored those signals. I would tell myself
“I am fine. I just need to push through.”

Now, when I feel those things, I treat them like a little child tugging on my sleeve.

“Hey, something is off. Can you please slow down and check in?”

I started asking myself gentle questions

Where do I feel this in my body
What just happened before I felt this
What am I believing in this moment

I did not always get an instant answer, but I was present.
That presence, over time, became healing.

Awareness with kindness.
That is the recipe.

Making Peace With Stillness

I am going to be honest with you. Stillness used to annoy me.

I like people. I like projects. I like creating. I like moving. I like seeing ideas come to life. My life has always been full of movement.

So when someone would say, “You need to slow down,” I would think
“If I slow down, everything will fall apart.”

What I finally learned is that stillness is not doing nothing.
Stillness is listening.

It is the moment you sit in your car and take three deep breaths before you turn the key.
It is the pause before you answer a text that triggered you.
  It is lying on the floor for five minutes just to feel your body supported by something.

In those tiny pauses, I can feel God again.
I can feel my own soul again.

Presence has become a friend to me.
Not because it makes life perfect, but because it gives me space to respond instead of react.

You do not need an hour on a meditation cushion.
Start with ten slow breaths, or a walk around the block without your phone.
Start with one honest moment.

That counts.

Letting Your Emotions Be Your Teachers

Here is something I say often to people in my circles

“Nothing you feel disqualifies you from love.”

Not sadness. Not anger. Not fear. Not jealousy. Not grief.

Each emotion has a job.

Sadness sits with what has been lost.
Anger points at a boundary that needs to be honored.
Fear raises its hand when you are stepping out of the familiar and need extra support.
Joy invites you to notice what is working, what is alive.
Grief shows you you have loved deeply.

When I stopped fighting my emotions and started asking what they were trying to tell me, something softened inside me.

Did I still have hard days? Yes. Did I still feel like I was going backwards sometimes? Yes.

But even on the “backwards” days, I was more honest.
And that honesty kept me connected to myself, to others, and to God.

Healing stopped being about “getting over it” and became about “staying with myself in it.”

God, Spirit, and a Softer Heart

People sometimes assume that spiritual people are always calm. Always centered. Always peaceful.

That has not been my experience.

My spiritual healing has often looked like crying in prayer.
Arguing with God a little.
Telling the truth about where I feel disappointed or lost.
Sitting in silence and saying, “I do not know what to do. Please help.”

The more honest I became spiritually, the more connected I felt.

You can call that Presence God, Source, Spirit, the Divine, Love.
Use the word that fits your heart.

What matters is that you know you are not carrying all of this alone.
There is something steady beneath your feet, even when it feels like the ground is moving.

For me, emotional healing and spiritual healing are like two hands.
One holds my human heart.
The other holds my soul.
I need both.

A Few Simple Things That Help Me

I do not have a perfect routine, but here are some simple things that keep bringing me back to myself

●     I journal when my mind feels crowded. I let it be messy. I do not worry about grammar or spelling. I just let the feelings spill out onto the page.

●     I go outside. Gardens, the beach, a park, even a small patch of trees. Nature has a way of reminding me that life is bigger than my current situation.

●     I breathe deeper on purpose. Hand on my heart. In slowly. Out slowly. I do this especially when I feel myself getting tight or hurried.

●     I rest before I crash. I am still learning this, but when I listen, my body thanks me.

●     I talk to people who feel safe. People who can listen without immediately trying to fix me. Just being seen is healing.

These are just simple ways I say to myself, “I am here with you. You matter.”

A Moment I Come Back To

There is one memory I return to often.

I was walking through the Egyptian desert. The light was soft. The water was still. People were walking and chatting, but inside I felt very quiet.

As I walked, a simple sentence rose up inside me

“You are allowed to feel everything. And you are allowed to heal slowly.”

I knew that was true.

Since then, I have stopped trying to race to some imaginary finish line called “healed.”
Instead, I practice walking with myself more gently.

Some days I do this well.
Some days I forget and slip into old patterns.
On those days, I remind myself

“Okay. Come back. One small step. One honest breath. That is enough for today.”

If you are reading this and something inside you is nodding, I want you to hear this in my voice

You are not behind. You are not too much. You are not broken beyond repair.

You are a human being with a tender heart, and you are allowed to heal at the speed of love, not at the speed of other people’s expectations.

Start where you are. Feel what is really there. Ask for help when you need it.

And little by little, breath by breath, you will notice it. You are coming home to yourself.