Welcome to SereneHaste — a blog dedicated to stillness, resting, and healing in defiance of a hurried world.
As a young adult navigating the realms of chronic illness, I find myself with abundant time and scarce energy. We live in a world that moves fast and praises momentum, productivity, and constant becoming. My thoughts race while my body has been rerouted into stillness by circumstance and healing. Finding harmony between the needs of my body and the aspirations of my mind requires ongoing patience and acceptance.
I live with with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS), Supraventricular Tachycardia (SVT), Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD), and the residual effects of surviving domestic violence. My days are slower than the world expects. My body demands rest. My nervous system and I are rebuilding, gently, in the shadows of urgency.
Here, I explore that tension — the grief of life on pause, the subtle movements of healing, the heavy task of finding presence amid paralysis. I don’t have polished answers, just reflections, bits of knowledge, and small moments of meaning found in sleepy days and softly lit rooms. I write about creating and maintaining serenity, finding humor in everyday life, and learning to live meaningfully within limitations. Through the lens of my experiences with chronic health issues, mental illness, and trauma, as well as a mindset built on social work values and principles, I explore what it means to heal, feel, and rediscover a sense of self amid the frustration of watching the rest of the world move on without you.
Somewhere within the stillness, there remains an inner spark from the passion I carry for addressing social injustice and advocating for the marginalized. That fire still quietly burns, though I often lack the self-confidence and energy to feel like I can foster real change. Some days, while navigating systems that overlook, misunderstand, or dismiss those without stable ground, I feel like I’ve become part of the very group I once longed to serve. Advocacy now requires a gentler, slower kind of resistance that begins with feeling more compassion towards myself.