Rest, Nourish, Reset: Slowing down, tuning in, and allowing space to heal

As a clinical herbalist, people often assume I’m somehow immune to getting sick. I live and breathe herbal medicine—it’s what I offer to others when they come to me for support. But recently, I was reminded in the most humbling way that I’m not invincible. My body slowed me down in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

At first, I resisted. I reached for my trusted remedies—echinacea, elderflower, garlic and warming teas. But this time, something deeper was going on. The fatigue wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, mental, and it had been building quietly in the background. Even the simplest tasks felt heavy. I realised I couldn’t just “treat” this and keep going.

So I stopped.

And in the stillness, I finally heard what my body had been trying to say all along: slow down. Not just physically, but on every level. I’d been moving too fast, holding too much, and my body—wise as ever—stepped in with a clear message: rest, nourish, reset.

What Helped Me Heal

When I gave myself full permission to slow down and respond with care, the healing began—not overnight, but gently, and in layers. Here’s what helped:

I rested as much as I could, without guilt. I stepped away from emails, put my gym membership on hold, and let go of my usual expectations. The world could wait.

I stopped scrolling. Instead of filling the space with noise, I allowed my mind to breathe. I watched light, comforting TV—nothing intense, just something to soften the edges. I made simple, nourishing soups with root vegetables, garlic, and herbs. I took warm showers and gently massaged my feet.

I did a little gentle tidying, not out of obligation, but because creating a calm space helped me feel more grounded. I read a few pages when I had the energy, popped my feet up when I needed to, and let go of the pressure to be productive.

I reached out to a couple of friends. Not for advice or solutions—just to feel connected. Because healing doesn’t only happen in solitude; it also happens in relationship.

None of this was fancy or groundbreaking. But all of it was medicine. Not the kind that comes in a bottle, but the kind that arises when you truly listen to what your body needs.

Getting unwell reminded me—again—that even as a herbalist, I’m human first. I’m here to hold space for others, but sometimes I need to hold that space for myself too.

If your body is asking you to slow down, I hope you’ll listen—not with frustration or fear, but with kindness. Rest is not weakness. Doing less is not failure. Sometimes, the most powerful healing begins when we stop pushing and start listening.

A gentle reminder that healing isn’t always about doing.

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Leonie 🌿Clinical Herbalist | Triple Tranquillity