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HEALING WITH BRIAN
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Lan was always on the . Her days were meticulously scheduled, her planner filled with meetings, deadlines, and social events.
She was a successful marketing manager at a tech company, admired by her colleagues for her dedication and ability to get things .
But beneath her composed exterior, Lan was .
For years, she had been running on autopilot, convincing herself that if she just pushed a little , she could finally feel satisfied.
There was always another goal to , another project to complete, another promotion to strive for.
She had become so accustomed to the fast-paced rhythm of her life that she barely noticed how tired she .
Rest, in her mind, was something that could .
One particularly hectic week, Lan’s body began sending her signals she couldn’t .
She woke up one morning with a pounding headache, her muscles aching as if she had run a .
But she brushed it off, as always, and carried on with her .
She had back-to-back meetings, a presentation to prepare for, and dozens of emails to respond .
By the time the weekend arrived, Lan was .
Her mind was foggy, her body felt heavy, and a deep sense of unease began to settle .
She hadn’t felt like herself in months, but she kept pushing .
She told herself she could rest once she met all her deadlines, once the next big project was .
That Sunday afternoon, as she sat at her desk preparing for another busy week, something inside her .
She couldn’t .
The words on her screen blurred, and for the first time in her life, she felt an overwhelming sense of .
It wasn’t just physical exhaustion—it was as though she had lost touch with herself .
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she realized that she couldn’t keep living like .
Lan knew she had to make a change, but the idea of slowing down her.
What if she fell ?
What if people thought she was ?
But the voice inside her, the one she had ignored for so long, whispered something .
It told her that rest wasn’t weakness. It was .
The next morning, for the first time in years, Lan didn’t set an .
She decided to take a few days off from work, despite the guilt that tugged at .
She spent the first day in bed, sleeping in and letting her body .
But it wasn’t just sleep that she needed—it was a deeper kind of .
She needed to reconnect with .
On the second day, Lan decided to visit a place she hadn’t been in years—a small park on the outskirts of the .
It was quiet, with only the sound of birds and the rustling of leaves in the .
As she walked through the park, something inside her began to .
The tension in her shoulders eased, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she took a deep, full .
Lan found a bench near the pond and sat .
The water was calm, its surface reflecting the sky .
As she watched the gentle ripples, she realized that this was what she had been missing—.
In the quiet of the park, away from the noise of her busy life, she began to hear her own thoughts .
For hours, she sat there, allowing herself to just .
No deadlines, no meetings, no pressure to .
It was a strange feeling at first—uncomfortable, .
But as the minutes passed, she felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known in .
In that moment, Lan realized that rest wasn’t about doing nothing—it was about giving herself permission to pause, to breathe, to .
Over the next few days, Lan continued to explore this new relationship with .
She started journaling, something she hadn’t done since she was a .
She wrote about her fears, her dreams, and the things she had been too busy to notice about .
As the words flowed onto the page, she began to uncover parts of herself that had been buried beneath years of busyness and .
She realized that she had been running not just from exhaustion, but from .
She had been using work as a way to avoid confronting the deeper questions of her life—questions about who she was and what she truly .
In the stillness, these questions came to the surface, and while they were uncomfortable, they also felt like the beginning of something .
By the end of the week, Lan felt a .
She wasn’t completely healed, but she had taken the first steps toward a different kind of life—one that made room for rest, reflection, and self-.
She returned to work with a new sense of clarity and .
She began setting boundaries, making time for herself, and most importantly, listening to her body when it told her to slow .
Lan’s journey didn’t end with that week of .
It became an ongoing .
She learned that healing wasn’t a one-time event—it was a .
And it was in the moments of stillness, in the pauses between the rush of life, that she found the strength to keep .
As months passed, Lan discovered that she was more productive, more creative, and more fulfilled when she allowed herself the space to .
She no longer equated rest with laziness, but with .
And in giving herself the gift of stillness, she not only healed her body but also her .
Answer Key:
- 1. move
- 2. done
- 3. exhausted
- 4. harder
- 5. chase
- 6. was
- 7. wait
- 8. ignore
- 9. marathon
- 10. day
- 11. to
- 12. drained
- 13. in
- 14. forward
- 15. completed
- 16. snapped
- 17. focus
- 18. emptiness
- 19. entirely
- 20. this
- 21. terrified
- 22. behind
- 23. weak
- 24. different
- 25. necessary
- 26. alarm
- 27. her
- 28. recuperate
- 29. rest
- 30. herself
- 31. city
- 32. breeze
- 33. soften
- 34. breath
- 35. down
- 36. above
- 37. stillness
- 38. again
- 39. be
- 40. perform
- 41. even
- 42. years
- 43. reflect
- 44. rest
- 45. teenager
- 46. herself
- 47. stress
- 48. herself
- 49. wanted
- 50. new
- 51. shift
- 52. compassion
- 53. purpose
- 54. down
- 55. rest
- 56. practice
- 57. process
- 58. going
- 59. rest
- 60. renewal
- 61. spirit
Transcript:
Lan was always on the move. Her days were meticulously scheduled, her planner filled with meetings, deadlines, and social events. She was a successful marketing manager at a tech company, admired by her colleagues for her dedication and ability to get things done. But beneath her composed exterior, Lan was exhausted.
For years, she had been running on autopilot, convincing herself that if she just pushed a little harder, she could finally feel satisfied. There was always another goal to chase, another project to complete, another promotion to strive for. She had become so accustomed to the fast-paced rhythm of her life that she barely noticed how tired she was. Rest, in her mind, was something that could wait.
One particularly hectic week, Lan’s body began sending her signals she couldn’t ignore. She woke up one morning with a pounding headache, her muscles aching as if she had run a marathon. But she brushed it off, as always, and carried on with her day. She had back-to-back meetings, a presentation to prepare for, and dozens of emails to respond to.
By the time the weekend arrived, Lan was drained. Her mind was foggy, her body felt heavy, and a deep sense of unease began to settle in. She hadn’t felt like herself in months, but she kept pushing forward. She told herself she could rest once she met all her deadlines, once the next big project was completed.
That Sunday afternoon, as she sat at her desk preparing for another busy week, something inside her snapped. She couldn’t focus. The words on her screen blurred, and for the first time in her life, she felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion—it was as though she had lost touch with herself entirely. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she realized that she couldn’t keep living like this.
Lan knew she had to make a change, but the idea of slowing down terrified her. What if she fell behind? What if people thought she was weak? But the voice inside her, the one she had ignored for so long, whispered something different. It told her that rest wasn’t weakness. It was necessary.
The next morning, for the first time in years, Lan didn’t set an alarm. She decided to take a few days off from work, despite the guilt that tugged at her. She spent the first day in bed, sleeping in and letting her body recuperate. But it wasn’t just sleep that she needed—it was a deeper kind of rest. She needed to reconnect with herself.
On the second day, Lan decided to visit a place she hadn’t been in years—a small park on the outskirts of the city. It was quiet, with only the sound of birds and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. As she walked through the park, something inside her began to soften. The tension in her shoulders eased, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she took a deep, full breath.
Lan found a bench near the pond and sat down. The water was calm, its surface reflecting the sky above. As she watched the gentle ripples, she realized that this was what she had been missing—stillness. In the quiet of the park, away from the noise of her busy life, she began to hear her own thoughts again.
For hours, she sat there, allowing herself to just be. No deadlines, no meetings, no pressure to perform. It was a strange feeling at first—uncomfortable, even. But as the minutes passed, she felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known in years. In that moment, Lan realized that rest wasn’t about doing nothing—it was about giving herself permission to pause, to breathe, to reflect.
Over the next few days, Lan continued to explore this new relationship with rest. She started journaling, something she hadn’t done since she was a teenager. She wrote about her fears, her dreams, and the things she had been too busy to notice about herself. As the words flowed onto the page, she began to uncover parts of herself that had been buried beneath years of busyness and stress.
She realized that she had been running not just from exhaustion, but from herself. She had been using work as a way to avoid confronting the deeper questions of her life—questions about who she was and what she truly wanted. In the stillness, these questions came to the surface, and while they were uncomfortable, they also felt like the beginning of something new.
By the end of the week, Lan felt a shift. She wasn’t completely healed, but she had taken the first steps toward a different kind of life—one that made room for rest, reflection, and self-compassion. She returned to work with a new sense of clarity and purpose. She began setting boundaries, making time for herself, and most importantly, listening to her body when it told her to slow down.
Lan’s journey didn’t end with that week of rest. It became an ongoing practice. She learned that healing wasn’t a one-time event—it was a process. And it was in the moments of stillness, in the pauses between the rush of life, that she found the strength to keep going.
As months passed, Lan discovered that she was more productive, more creative, and more fulfilled when she allowed herself the space to rest. She no longer equated rest with laziness, but with renewal. And in giving herself the gift of stillness, she not only healed her body but also her spirit.
