In 2017, I found myself unraveling—caught in a relationship that drained more than it gave. My emotional and physical well-being faltered. There were mornings I didn’t recognize the person I was becoming. My self-belief had gone quiet.

Eventually, I did what many do when the familiar world stops making sense: I left. I went to India and sat in silence. Ten days of Vipassana meditation stripped away the noise, and for the first time in a long while, my mind softened. (I’ll share more about that experience elsewhere, when the memory is ready to be written down.) Around the same period, I returned to the gym—not to chase a version of strength I’d lost, but to slowly rebuild from within.

The shift wasn’t immediate. Healing never is. But over time, exercise and meditation became more than practices—they became anchors. They held me through the difficult mornings, the quiet nights, the questions that refused easy answers.

What I’ve come to understand is that health isn’t a fixed state. It’s a relationship—with your body, with your thoughts, with the stories you choose to tell yourself. And sometimes, reclaiming that relationship begins in the simplest of ways: a walk, a breath, a moment of stillness.

This space isn’t about transformation as spectacle. It’s about tending to yourself gently, daily. Because when everything else slips away, your health—both physical and mental—remains the most honest wealth you’ll ever own.