StaywellMA

The Cure for Being Human reads less like a book written for the public and more like a private journal released into the world. At its core, it documents, the author - Kate Bowler ’s cancer diagnosis, immunotherapies, and confrontation with mortality, alongside a deep internal struggle with faith, meaning, and belief in the face of suffering. The questions raised are old ones, heavy with history: Why does suffering exist? What happens to belief when the body fails and certainty dissolves? Where is the balance between faith and toxic positivity ? Is the bucket list problematic? These are not posed from a place of theological distance, but from inside fear, pain, and uncertainty.  Being sick has a way of narrowing the world. It strips away assumptions of control and reminds us how fragile we are, how little power we actually hold, and how quickly everything familiar can disappear. In that sense, the book is honest. It captures the disorientation that comes when life is interrupted b...

For a long time, I treated stress as something to manage quietly and move past quickly. Tight shoulders . Shallow breathing . Fatigue that lingered longer than it should. I learned to function through it. What I didn’t realize then was that my body wasn’t malfunctioning — it was communicating. Listening didn’t come naturally. It required slowing down enough to notice patterns.  Stress, I learned, doesn’t always arrive as urgency.  Sometimes it shows up as restlessness , forgetfulness , or irritability .  Sometimes it’s the absence of ease. When I finally started paying attention, I noticed how often I pushed past early signals.  I waited until exhaustion and burnout forced me to stop instead of responding when my body first asked for care. Learning to listen changed my relationship with productivity , rest , and responsibility. It taught me that honoring my limits doesn’t make me less capable — it makes me more sustainable. Now, when tension builds, I pause soone...

The idea of a “reset” at the beginning of the year often comes with urgency — as if something is broken and needs fixing immediately.  Real life doesn’t pause for resets. It rarely allows for complete overhauls. Responsibilities remain. Schedules fill. Energy fluctuates. Any wellness approach that requires ideal conditions is unlikely to last.  What I’ve found more helpful is a quieter kind of reset — one that supports the body and mind without demanding constant effort or discipline.  This is about re-calibrating gently, not starting over. For me, this kind of reset starts with noticing. Noticing what drains me. What steadies me. What feels supportive — and what feels performative. A maintainable wellness reset doesn’t add more. It clarifies. Here’s what that looks like in practice: Returning to regular meals, even when days feel busy Drinking water consistently instead of sporadically - even if you don't feel thirsty Choosing exercises or movement that restores...

I finished reading the  The Return of the Gods by Jonathan Cahn a while back and I am just now getting around to sharing my thoughts about the book. It definitely left a deep impression on me—one that I believe every Christian would benefit from wrestling with. This is not just a book about history, theology, or culture. It’s a wake-up call. What I appreciated most about the book is how Jonathan Cahn weaves together historical context with present-day realities. He draws powerful connections between the gods worshiped in ancient civilizations and the subtle, modern-day forms they have taken today. These are not always obvious. In fact, many of them masquerade as harmless, progressive, or even virtuous ideas. Yet beneath the surface, the same spiritual forces that led nations astray thousands of years ago are still at work today. Ecclesiastes 1:9 reminds us that “there is nothing new under the sun”, and this book brings that truth into sharp focus. The strategies of the enemy ...

At this point in my life as a member of the 40s club , I pay more attention to what lasts than what motivates me briefly.  I’ve learned that the body keeps count — excessive exercise, skipped meals and the mental stress that comes with playing the comparison olympics. Eventually, it responds. Not out of defiance, but out of honesty. For years, I approached wellness goals the way many of us do: with intensity. January became a time for overcorrection.  More discipline.  More structure.  More pressure.  What I didn’t notice at first was how quickly those goals became another source of strain. Over time, I began to question what I was aiming for.  Was I trying to be healthier — or simply more controlled?  Was the goal to feel well, or to perform wellness convincingly? And to attain who's defined wellness metrics? Goals rooted in perfection rarely survive real life.  These days, I set intentions that respect my capcity, my adult  life respon...