I didn’t plan on spending this season at home.
I planned to spend a couple of months in sunny Arizona to reset and write my second book to support my signature Thrive 360 framework. An ankle injury stopped me in my tracks. What I expected to be a short delay stretched longer after concerning MRI results and the possibility of surgery. I found myself waiting—recliner, leg elevated—watching my plans dissolve.
And then something unexpected happened.
God changed my heart.
The frustration lifted. Peace replaced it. I can’t explain it any other way. Instead of pushing forward, I felt released to rest. To stay. To heal.
During those quiet hours in the recliner, I began noticing something else: how much my surroundings were either supporting me… or quietly draining me.
The Overlooked Truth: Environment Is Part of Healing
When your body is healing—especially if you live with autoimmune challenges—your environment matters more than you may realize.
Healing isn’t just about protocols, supplements, appointments, or discipline. Our daily surroundings constantly send signals to our nervous system. Clutter, poor lighting, inefficient layouts, and visual heaviness create subtle but persistent background stress. You may not consciously register it, but your body does.
On the other hand, calm, functional, thoughtfully arranged spaces help your system exhale.
If energy is limited, even small obstacles can feel heavy.
For women managing autoimmune conditions, this matters deeply. There is already limited energy. There is already inflammation. There is already decision fatigue. A chaotic or inefficient environment quietly adds to the load.
A supportive environment reduces friction. And less friction means more capacity to heal.
The Unexpected Gift of Slowing Down
This injury pause gave me access to something I don’t naturally choose: presence.
I tend toward “doing.” I like goals. I like progress. I like movement. But healing includes two equally important elements:
- Doing (exercise, protocols, discipline)
- Supporting (reducing strain, creating ease, removing stressors)
Both matter. But if your personality leans toward doing, you may miss the supporting opportunities all around you.
As I sat still, I noticed old, failing kitchen cabinet hinges that had been worsening. That small issue morphed into something bigger. I began seeing visual heaviness. Poor lighting. Inefficient movement patterns. Little things that required extra effort.
Not dramatic. Not urgent. But draining.
So I made a simple plan focused on paint and lighting…and new hinges. Not out of vanity—but out of alignment. I wanted my home to support me, not subtly tax me.
Let There Be Light
I changed and added lighting. I refreshed paint. I improved flow. The transformation surprised me.
My home feels lighter. I feel lighter.
The improvements didn’t just change how my house looks. They changed how it feels to move through it. There’s less friction. Less visual noise. Less background stress.
And that matters when your body is already working hard to heal.
It also became an opportunity to donate some things from my home to my former co-workers’ nonprofit that helps the “newly housed” with home furnishings. I could sell on MarketPlace but like my electrician said, “you can’t outgive God.” He’s also blessed me in this project with amazing craftsmen who have helped me which is another story.
Less is more in pursuit of peace and healing.
Why This Matters for Autoimmune Healing
Your nervous system needs cues of safety and calm.
If your body is managing inflammation or recovering from injury, it does not need more stress—even subtle environmental stress. When your home environment reduces background noise, your stress load lowers. When stress lowers, your body has more capacity to repair.
This is part of whole-person wellness.
We often think stress reduction means meditation or mindset work—and it does. But it also means removing daily irritations. Improving lighting. Clearing a counter. Creating better flow in your kitchen. Small adjustments that conserve precious energy.
Healing doesn’t always require more effort.
Sometimes it requires fewer obstacles.
One Gentle Invitation
If this resonates, don’t overhaul your entire house.
Choose one small step.
Clear one counter.
Improve lighting in one room.
Remove one physical obstacle.
Create one calm corner.
Start with ease, not overwhelm.
My injury was inconvenient. It disrupted my plans. But it also reminded me that healing doesn’t always come from doing more.
Sometimes it begins by creating a space that allows your body to rest, exhale, and recover.
And sometimes, staying home is exactly where healing happens.
This whole-person way of thinking—intentional, compassionate, and aligned—is at the heart of my Thrive 360 framework. Healing isn’t just what you do for your body. It’s how you support it in every space you live.
In love and health,
Terri
