THE FIBROMATES JOURNAL

By Jade Bald, Guest Blogger

People living with fibromyalgia are often told—by doctors, coworkers, friends, and well-meaning strangers alike—that they should meditate. Many of us have tried. We’ve downloaded meditation apps, listened to guided sessions on podcasts, or attempted breathwork exercises that promise calm and clarity.

And yet, for some of us, meditation just doesn’t land.

I’ll be honest: I don’t enjoy guided meditation. Having someone talk at me while telling me how to breathe or what to imagine feels distracting rather than soothing. Breathwork has never resonated with me either, and yoga—despite its many claimed benefits for fibromyalgia—is not something I feel drawn to pursue.

Over time, I’ve also grown wary of parts of the alternative health world. I’ve tried handpan music, “healing” frequencies, and sound bowl recordings. Sound bowls can be relaxing, but beyond that, many of these approaches do very little for me. I struggle with the idea—still common in some circles—that chronic illness exists because chakras are blocked or vibrations are low.

Fibromyalgia isn’t about chakras or sound frequencies. It’s about neurotransmitters, disrupted sleep architecture, endocrine imbalance, gut health, and neuroinflammation. Trauma, chronic stress, and long-term physiological strain play a role. Yes, there is a psychological dimension—but when you’re managing pain, fatigue, and brain fog daily, “just raising your vibration” feels dismissive at best.

That said, something unexpected has helped me recently—and I noticed better sleep almost immediately.

The Hack: Gentle Audio-Visual Immersion

Instead of forcing meditation, I tried something simpler. I went on YouTube and searched for calming videos that combine both sound and movement. Here are a few that worked especially well:

• Ocean soundtracks with visible rolling waves
• Garden or forest walk-throughs with birdsong and soft breezes
• European village walk-throughs with distant church bells, gentle rain, or snowfall
• Soft chime music paired with slow, calming visuals
• Purring cats or crackling fireplaces
• Ancient ruins or drone flyovers accompanied by slow, rhythmic drum music

What surprised me was how naturally meditative this felt.

Why It Works (At Least for Me)

I suspect it’s the audio-visual combination. The movement gives my mind something to rest on without effort. Watching waves roll in, leaves sway, snow fall, or rain drift across a village street creates a gentle, hypnotic focus. The sounds—bells, wind, water, chimes—anchor the experience without demanding attention.

There’s no instruction. No pressure to “do it right.” No one telling me how to breathe.

Many of these videos run for an hour or more and are designed for meditation, studying, or winding down before sleep. Personally, I don’t leave them on all night—I find that too stimulating—but even 20–40 minutes before bed has helped my nervous system settle.

If traditional meditation hasn’t worked for you, you’re not failing. You may simply need a different doorway into calm. Sometimes rest comes not from silence—but from gentle, moving beauty.

Jade Bald is a freelance writer, as well as author and screenwriter in progress. She lives in a town in Ontario. When not writing, she is listening to music, and watching the latest series on Amazon Prime Video. 

By Irene Roth, Blog Editor/Freelance Writer

For many fibro warriors, the word enough can feel loaded. It sounds like quitting. Like giving up. Like settling for less than we once were. But in truth, learning to say “enough” is not an act of defeat—it is an act of wisdom.

Fibromyalgia changes how we experience time, energy, and effort. Tasks that once felt routine can now drain us completely. Yet many of us still carry an old internal script that says we must push harder, do more, prove our worth, and keep up. The result? Flares, exhaustion, guilt, and the painful sense that life is always slipping through our fingers.

The art of saying enough begins when we recognize that doing less is not the same as being less.

Letting Go of the Productivity Trap

Our culture praises busyness. Productivity is often mistaken for virtue, and rest is treated as something to be earned. For fibro warriors, this mindset can be especially harmful. When your body has limits—real, neurological, physiological limits—trying to live by able-bodied standards becomes an ongoing act of self-betrayal.

Saying “enough” means questioning those standards. It means asking: Who decided this was necessary? What would happen if I stopped sooner? What if my worth didn’t depend on output at all?

Doing less allows your nervous system to settle. It gives your body space to recover. And perhaps most importantly, it interrupts the cycle of pushing and crashing that so many fibromates know too well.

Choosing Presence Over Pressure

When we do less, something surprising happens—we often live more.

Living more doesn’t mean doing grand things or checking off more experiences. It means being present for the small, quiet moments that are often missed when we’re rushing or overextending. A cup of tea enjoyed without guilt. A short walk taken slowly. A conversation that isn’t cut short because you’re already depleted.

Saying “enough” creates room for these moments. It allows joy to arrive gently, without demanding more than you can give. Life becomes less about endurance and more about attention.

Redefining Strength

Many fibro warriors have spent years being strong in ways no one could see—pushing through pain, masking symptoms, and showing up despite profound fatigue. But there is another kind of strength that emerges when we stop striving.

It takes courage to rest in a world that equates rest with laziness. It takes self-trust to listen to your body when others don’t understand. And it takes deep self-respect to say, “This is enough for today,” and mean it.

Doing less is not weakness. It is alignment. It is choosing to live within your energy rather than constantly borrowing from tomorrow.

Living More, Gently

The art of saying “enough” is not learned overnight. It’s a daily practice—sometimes a moment-by-moment one. Some days you’ll overdo it, and that’s okay. This is not about perfection. It’s about compassion.

For fibro warriors, living more doesn’t come from pushing harder. It comes from softening. From honoring limits. From allowing life to be smaller, slower, and still meaningful.

When you say “enough,” you aren’t closing the door on life. You’re opening it—to a way of living that is kinder, truer, and more sustainable. And that, in itself, is a powerful act of courage.

by Irene Roth /Blog Editor

Ethan Kross’s Shift is the kind of book that feels like a steady hand on your shoulder. It doesn’t promise a life without pain, stress, or difficult emotions. Instead, it offers something far more realistic and empowering: practical ways to change your relationship to what you’re feeling in the moment. For fibro warriors—who often live with unpredictable symptoms, flare-ups, brain fog, sleep disruption, and the emotional whiplash that can come with chronic illness—this is deeply relevant.

Kross, a psychologist known for translating research into real-life tools, focuses on emotional regulation: how we can “shift” our inner experience when our thoughts and feelings start to spiral. That spiral is familiar in fibromyalgia. A pain spike can trigger anxiety (“What if this lasts for weeks?”), frustration (“Why can’t my body cooperate?”), or self-criticism (“I should be handling this better”). Shift reframes this as a human pattern rather than a personal failure, and then provides strategies to interrupt the loop.

One of the book’s most helpful contributions for fibro warriors is the emphasis on distance—not denial, not forced positivity, but a gentle step back from intense inner noise. When pain is loud, the mind often becomes louder. Kross’s tools encourage creating space between “I am in pain” and “I am ruined by pain.” That space matters because it can reduce the secondary suffering: the fear, shame, and catastrophizing that drain energy and amplify distress.

Kross also highlights the power of perspective-taking and supportive self-talk—not cheesy affirmations, but language that is grounded and compassionate. For someone with fibromyalgia, learning to speak to yourself the way you would speak to a friend can be life-changing. Instead of “I’m useless today,” the shift becomes “Today is a limited day. What’s one kind thing I can do for myself?” That’s not giving up; it’s wise pacing.

What I appreciated most is that Shift respects emotional struggle without making it the reader’s fault. The book doesn’t suggest that mindset cures illness. Rather, it shows how emotional tools can protect your nervous system from constant overload—something many fibro warriors are already trying to manage. When you’re living with chronic pain, even small reductions in stress reactivity can mean more usable energy, clearer thinking, and a greater sense of agency.

Overall, Shift is practical, compassionate, and empowering. For fibro warriors, it offers a toolkit for those moments when the body is doing what it does—and you still want a way to steady your mind, soften the edges of suffering, and keep your dignity intact. It’s not a cure. It’s a companion—and sometimes, that’s exactly what you need.