THE FIBROMATES JOURNAL

by Irene Roth, Blog Editor/Writer

Living with fibromyalgia can be a daily battle, filled with physical discomfort, emotional strain, and the frustration of limitations. However, just as the seasons change, so too can our mindset.

Spring, with its vivid symbolism of renewal, growth, and transformation, offers a powerful metaphor for those navigating chronic illness. By embracing the themes of spring, fibromates can cultivate hope, resilience, and a renewed sense of purpose in their journey.

After the cold, dark months of winter, spring arrives as a breath of fresh air, bringing warmth, longer days, and the reawakening of life. In much the same way, hope can emerge from even the most difficult times. While fibromyalgia may feel overwhelming, spring reminds us that renewal is always possible.

Just as flowers bloom after lying dormant, you too can experience moments of renewal. Whether it’s through small lifestyle changes, new treatment approaches, or a shift in perspective, embracing the idea that positive change is always within reach can be incredibly empowering. Progress may be slow, just like the first buds of the season, but with patience and care, growth happens.

Spring teaches us that growth often follows struggle. The rain that nourishes the earth may seem inconvenient, but it is essential for the blossoming of new life. Similarly, challenges with fibromyalgia—pain, fatigue, and emotional ups and downs—can be stepping stones to personal growth.

Consider how difficulties have shaped you. Perhaps you’ve developed greater resilience, a deeper appreciation for the good days, or a newfound ability to listen to your body’s needs. Each challenge can be reframed as an opportunity to learn and grow, much like a tree strengthening its roots to withstand the storms of life.

With spring comes longer days and more sunlight, which can be a natural mood booster. Exposure to sunlight increases serotonin levels, which can help improve mood and energy—something many fibromates struggle with. Symbolically, spring invites you to step into the light, both physically and emotionally.

Finding joy in small victories can be a transformative practice. Celebrate the good moments, whether it’s a pain-free morning, the ability to enjoy a walk in nature, or the simple pleasure of feeling the sun on your skin. These seemingly small moments are like the first blooms of spring—tiny but significant signs of life and hope.

Just as trees shed old leaves and animals emerge from hibernation, spring is a season of letting go. This can be a time to release what no longer serves you—be it negative self-talk, unrealistic expectations, or the guilt of needing rest. By shedding these burdens, you create space for self-compassion and new beginnings.

Letting go also means embracing change. Perhaps it’s time to explore new self-care routines, connect with supportive communities, or set gentle, achievable goals. Change doesn’t have to be dramatic; even the smallest shifts can lead to a renewed sense of hope and motivation.

Spring is also a time for planting—both in the garden and in our own lives. Consider what seeds you want to plant for your future. This could be a commitment to prioritizing self-care, learning more about managing your symptoms, or setting boundaries that protect your well-being.

Remember, seeds take time to sprout. Be patient with yourself, knowing that the efforts you put in today—no matter how small—will eventually lead to growth. Trust in the process, just as a gardener trusts that their efforts will yield beauty in time.

Spring is a season of transformation, reminding us that hope is always within reach. For those living with fibromyalgia, its symbolism offers encouragement to embrace renewal, celebrate small victories, and trust in the gradual process of growth. By adopting the mindset of spring, you can navigate the challenges of fibromyalgia with resilience, hope, and a renewed sense of possibility.

No matter how long the winter, spring always follows. Let its lessons inspire you to move forward with hope, one day at a time.

By Irene Roth, Blog Editor, Book Reviewer

Like all of her books, this one is very organized and easy to reference later. She makes the steps in the guide so easy to understand and feel doable in real life. The examples are relatable and the advice is customizable. There are many prompts that will have you truly evaluating your lifestyle and inspire you to make changes that are important to you.

I really enjoy her writing because it’s easy to digest and at times, quite humorous. Everyone who is into minimizing, de-stressing, or just prioritizing their life could benefit from this book. I believe it’s a book that can change your life. I don’t say this often about a book. But I think this book merits that kind of compliment.

Shira Gill’s book provides a practical framework for a more intentional life. She presents tools and systems that are small, actionable prompts to help you create the life you want. The key takeaways for me are:

• It is never too late to start decluttering and organizing. Even a small amount can help us feel freer and less overwhelmed.
• Consistency is key. Small habit shifts can compound over time, resulting in progress.
• We must try to reframe our mindset. We should complain less and be more grateful for a happier and more fulfilled life.

This book is a refreshing combination of beauty, practicality, and lighthearted inspiration to up style your life. The tone is uplifting and fun, making it feel like a personal invitation to transform your life and environment without the stress. Every page sparks some new ideas, and it’s clear that the author put a lot of thought into making it approachable for everyone.

Plus, there are these beautiful personal therapy moments woven throughout—gentle reflections that allow you to not just organize your space, but also nurture your mind. It’s like the book is a little wellness retreat in printed form, offering both practical and emotional support for a harmonious home life.

If you’re looking for a home decor and organizing book that strikes the perfect balance between beauty, efficiency, and personal growth, this is it! Fibromates can also find this book useful as they will be inspired to start organizing and decluttering in as little as a few minutes a day. Since all our efforts add up, if we’re consistent, we’ll have a tidier and less cluttered living space in no time. It’s just the book for the spring season.

By Guest Blogger Laura Erdman

When I first became ill, I was working as a gardener. I had quit my go-nowhere corporate job to pursue a more joyful, authentic life. I became a full-time gardener in training. I should have been the healthiest I’ve ever been. I was enjoying the sunshine and the activity. I loved caring for plants and their soil, and I delighted in the creature communities of bugs and birds and fungus that I met every day.

I met the nicest people in the garden. Kind, gentle people who with sensitive fingers and eyes, carefully cultivating the conditions where tender organisms could thrive in the harsh Canadian climate. I made friends. I was happy. I was renewing my life in a good way, so I don’t know why my body chose that moment to revolt.

It’s a prolonged grief, the grief for what I used to have. I used to be able to get up at dawn and dig in the soil for hours. Since that time, 5 years ago, my life has gotten smaller and smaller. I am continually giving ground as I adjust to my new lack of capabilities; I can’t drive to town like I had hoped. I can’t shop at the greenhouse because it is too large to walk through. I just can’t keep up with the weeding and watering, so my lovely plants wither where they were planted.

The grief is profound and prolonged, so how can I celebrate the coming of spring?

I will try, of course; I can’t not try.

I’ve learned to break goals into tiny steps. Just the smallest possible task, done today or tomorrow. No pressure. No striving. So today or tomorrow, I’ll take a poke around and find my gloves and shears. Then today or tomorrow I’ll go out and look at the shrubs. On one of the next few days, I’ll set my timer for 10 minutes and gently clip the winter kill. Then, judiciously, I’ll clip off twigs and ends that appear to be healthy, but will choke the plant of its space and sunlight if allowed to grow. In the first days of my gardener training, this horrified me, excising perfectly healthy tissue from a perfectly healthy plant. Now, with experience, I am wise enough to see that these particular limbs are choking the plant from the inside out by using precious resources that inhibit its growth. Clipping these parts allows the emergence of fresh new leaves ready to soak up the sun and beautiful blossoms primed to fruit.

I prune this little bush as I know I must lovingly prune myself. I can’t continue to be the person whose beliefs and behaviours led to this collapse. Losing my capabilities has had the advantage of exposing what’s really important. The tiny bit of energy I have must need to be allocated to the thoughts and behaviours that sustain me, the things I love, the things that uplift me, and that help me to feel good. The better I feel, the more I can do.

What is keeping me from thriving?

I see the gnarly pieces that are choking my potential to thrive; adjusting myself to suit someone else’s preferences, failing to speak my true feelings for fear of being rejected, obsessively ruminating on one bad interaction, allowing my mind to dwell on the same negative thought over and over again, sinking away from the will to take positive action into sucking hopelessness and self-hatred.

These, too, I must trim away. I must make space for healing with intentional small steps that support my well-being. I must become my own gentle gardener by using my inner voice to cheer me and direct my wise actions, making safe space for feelings to be felt, honouring my authentic needs, learning what my boundaries are and defending them. For the sake of feeling good, for good health, as good as it can be, I owe this to myself. I deserve it. If nothing else, it is necessary—to balance out my grief, loss, and pain.

Just try to be okay.

Wishing you a gentle, slow, and hopeful spring. May you cultivate the space to help yourself thrive.

Laura Erdman is a 45-year-old artist living in British Columbia. Originally from the prairies, she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2020. She explores creativity, self-care, and the challenges of building a meaningful life while managing chronic illness.