Tag Archives: motherhood journey

64.When Exhaustion Takes Over: How Motherhood Changed My Sleep, My Energy, and My Entire Life

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When Exhaustion Takes Over: How Motherhood Changed My Sleep, My Energy, and My Entire Life

Motherhood changes everything, but some changes arrive silently—slowly building up until one day they take over our entire life. For years, I lived with very little sleep. I hardly slept properly from my childhood till I reached the age of 30. I was used to surviving on broken sleep, late nights, and restless days. I never imagined sleep could become such a huge part of my identity. I never knew that lack of sleep could catch up one day like a storm.

Everything changed after the birth of my second child. Suddenly, exhaustion was not just tiredness—it became a constant companion. It became a physical weight, an emotional burden, and a mental confusion I didn’t understand.

I slowly started realizing that motherhood exhaustion is not just about being tired. It is about feeling mentally foggy, emotionally drained, physically weak, and completely disconnected from the world around me. It is a state where I can hardly stay awake for even an hour. If I force myself to stay awake, the entire day becomes unexpectedly worst. Nothing goes right. I feel irritated, lost, and not in my senses.

And the hardest part? This exhaustion affects my children too. I am not able to respond calmly. I get disturbed very quickly. I feel guilty, helpless, and overwhelmed.

This blog post is for every mother who feels the same. This is for every mother who wakes up tired, who sleeps tired, and who spends every moment balancing responsibilities with a half-broken body and half-functioning mind.

Why This Exhaustion Feels Different After the Second Child

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People often say, “You already have one child. So the second one should be easier.” But the truth is the second child adds a different kind of weight—a weight you were not prepared for.

With the first child, even if life was tiring, everything was new. There was curiosity, excitement, and attention from everyone around. But with the second child, responsibilities double while rest reduces even more.

My body changed.
My mind changed.
My emotional energy changed.

Suddenly, the sleep deprivation I was used to from childhood started affecting me differently. It felt like my body finally said, “Enough.”

Now, even staying awake for an hour feels like a battle. My eyes burn, my mind shuts down, and my body refuses to cooperate.

And when a mother’s body collapses, the entire household feels the ripple.

The Guilt of Not Being Able to Function as a Mother

The most painful part of this exhaustion is the guilt.

I want to be calm.
I want to be patient.
I want to be emotionally available for my kids.

But exhaustion steals that part of me.

When I can’t respond calmly, I feel like I am failing my children.
When I am disturbed, I feel like I am losing control.
When I am not in my senses, I feel like I am not the mother I want to be.

Motherhood already has a huge emotional load. When combined with sleep deprivation and physical weakness, the pressure becomes unbearable. But the truth is: this does not make me a bad mother—it makes me a human mother.

Exhaustion is not a choice.
Fatigue is not a weakness.
Burnout is not a failure.

It is the body’s natural response to years of physical strain, emotional stress, sleepless nights, and endless giving.

Why The Body Crashes After Years of Sleeplessness

For years, I survived without proper rest. But the body has limits. Sleep is not a luxury—sleep is healing. When the body goes through years of lack of sleep, stress, childbirth, breastfeeding, hormonal changes, and mental overload, it eventually collapses.

This is what happened to me.

After my second child:

  • My hormones shifted drastically

  • My energy levels dropped

  • My mental clarity reduced

  • My body stopped tolerating lack of sleep

  • My nerves became more sensitive

So now, even a small disturbance throws my entire day off balance.

This is not laziness.
This is not mental weakness.
This is a biological and emotional reaction to years of overworking, overstressing, and over giving.

Balancing Motherhood When Your Body No Longer Listens

The hardest part of this new phase is learning how to manage everything when my body simply refuses to stay awake or stay stable.

There are days when I have so much work to do, but I cannot do anything because my body shuts down.
There are moments when I want to play with my kids, but my eyes can’t stay open.
There are times when I want to respond lovingly, but my energy levels are too low to even speak.

Balancing motherhood with exhaustion is extremely difficult.

But slowly, I am trying to make small changes.

1. Listening to My Body Instead of Fighting It

If I am exhausted, I rest. Even if it is 20 minutes. Even if the house is messy.

2. Taking Micro-Breaks Throughout the Day

A 5-minute quiet moment can prevent a full-day breakdown.

3. Lowering My Expectations

I don’t need to be a perfect mother. I just need to be present.

4. Asking for Help Without Guilt

Even a strong mother needs support.

5. Allowing Myself Emotional Space

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel tired. It’s okay to slow down.

Motherhood Exhaustion Needs Recognition, Not Judgement

Many people don’t understand this phase. They think mothers should “adjust,” “manage,” or “stay strong.”

But exhaustion is real.
Fatigue is real.
Burnout is real.

No mother should feel judged for feeling drained.
No mother should feel guilty for feeling tired.
No mother should feel weak for needing rest.

This phase doesn’t define us.
It doesn’t make us less capable.
It doesn’t make us less loving.

It simply makes us real.

I Am Learning to Heal — Slowly, Gently, Patiently

Today, I am still exhausted. I still struggle to stay awake. I still get disturbed easily. I still feel out of balance.

But I am learning to heal.

I am learning to understand my body.
I am learning to accept my limits.
I am learning to prioritise rest over perfection.
I am learning to rebuild myself, one day at a time.

Motherhood may drain us, but it also gives us strength we never knew we had.

And healing begins when we stop pretending to be unbreakable.

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38.Embracing Motherhood Alone: My Journey of Raising Kids Single-Handedly While My Husband Works Away

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https://mysticalmomworld.com/why-patience-is-the-strongest-parenting-skill/Embracing Motherhood Alone: My Journey of Raising Kids Single-Handedly While My Husband Works Away

Life doesn’t always move according to our comfort. Sometimes, it throws us into roles we never imagined we could handle so gracefully. For me, that role is being a mother who takes care of both her kids single-handedly, while my husband lives away from us for work.

What started as a phase of fear and exhaustion has slowly become a journey of strength, love, and unimaginable emotional growth. It’s not an easy life, but it’s our life, and I have learned to embrace it with every heartbeat.

The Quiet Evenings and Louder Responsibilities

When my husband first left for work to another city, I remember the sudden silence that filled the house after dinner. That silence used to remind me of how incomplete the home felt. The kids would ask, “When will Papa come?” and I would give them a smile hiding the lump in my throat.

From managing school schedules, meals, homework, and emotional needs — to being the only adult to handle sickness, tantrums, and bedtime stories — every day felt like a test of patience and power. But over time, I realized that motherhood has its own rhythm. The chaos turns into comfort when you learn to see love behind every responsibility.

Becoming the Anchor of My Home

There’s a certain kind of strength that comes from knowing that your children rely solely on you for everything — from tying their shoes to calming their fears at night. That strength is not born overnight. It grows with each tear you wipe, each late-night fever you nurse, and each time you choose to stay calm when your heart is tired.

I have learned that I am not just a caretaker — I am the anchor that keeps this little family grounded. Even when the waves of loneliness or fatigue hit hard, I remind myself that I’m doing something that truly matters.

Every morning, when I see their innocent smiles, I feel the courage to face another day — alone, but strong.

The Hidden Beauty of Single-Handed Motherhood

People often pity mothers who raise kids alone, but I wish they could see the beauty hidden in these moments. When I watch my kids share food, help each other with homework, or surprise me with a handmade card that says “We love you, Amma,” my heart overflows.

There is no greater reward than seeing the values you’ve planted grow inside your children. I’ve realized that being both the nurturer and the disciplinarian has given me a balanced bond with my kids — one filled with honesty, love, and respect.

Yes, there are days when I cry silently at night, missing my husband’s presence, missing the comfort of being two. But there are also days when I look at my children and feel an unshakable pride — that I am giving them everything they need, even in his absence.

Missing My Partner Yet Growing Stronger

Distance teaches you love differently. My husband and I may not share every meal or bedtime conversation, but we share the purpose of building a strong family. His absence makes me stronger. His efforts remind me that this phase of distance is just another form of love and sacrifice for our future.

We talk late into the night sometimes — about the kids, about how the house feels emptier without him, about how much he misses the sound of their laughter. These conversations keep us emotionally connected even when miles apart.

I’ve learned that love isn’t just about presence — it’s about understanding and endurance.

My Emotional Growth as a Mother

Handling everything alone has changed me. I’ve become more patient, more practical, and surprisingly more grateful. Every small achievement feels big now — when both kids eat well, when I finish the day’s chores without breaking down, when the house is filled with laughter despite exhaustion.

Motherhood has shown me that strength is not about doing everything perfectly. It’s about showing up every single day, even when you don’t feel like it. It’s about loving your children unconditionally, even when you’re running on empty.

This journey taught me to value myself as a woman too. Amid all the responsibilities, I’ve started taking little moments to read, to breathe, to look in the mirror and remind myself that I am doing enough — that I am enough.

The Joy of Togetherness Even in Distance

Though my husband is far, our hearts are connected in every small detail. The kids send him drawings, I share their stories, and during video calls, our family feels complete again. We’ve found joy in our own way — through love that travels across time zones and miles.

I’ve realized that family is not defined by physical presence but by emotional connection. Our children are growing up learning that love can stay strong even when people are apart — a lesson that will stay with them for life.

A Mother’s Silent Gratitude

Every night, after putting the kids to bed, I sit by the window, sometimes in silence, sometimes with tears, and often with gratitude. Gratitude that I get to be a mother. Gratitude that I have two beautiful souls calling me “Amma.” Gratitude that even in this phase of separation, love has found a way to hold us together.

Raising kids alone has made me see motherhood not as a duty, but as a divine blessing — a journey of discovering the power within myself. I may get tired, I may break sometimes, but I rise again because love keeps me moving.

Conclusion: My Heart’s Message

To every mother who is managing life single-handedly while her partner is away — you are not alone. You are seen, you are strong, and you are doing an incredible job. Don’t measure your worth by how perfect things look, but by how much love you pour into every day.

This journey has taught me that being a mother is not just about raising children — it’s about raising yourself into the strongest, most loving version of who you are meant to be.

31.Life Made Me Hard, But My Kids Will Live Soft Yet Strong

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https://mysticalmomworld.com/live-your-dreams-along-with-motherhood/Life Made Me Hard, But My Kids Will Live Soft Yet Strong

There comes a time in every mother’s life when pain turns into purpose.
When struggles that once broke her now become the fuel that drives her dreams — not for herself anymore, but for her children.

I am that mother.

Life didn’t treat me gently. It wasn’t the kind of life where mornings started with smiles and nights ended with peace. I have seen days when breathing itself felt like a burden — when responsibilities, pain, and loneliness walked hand in hand. Those were the days that made me emotionally hard. But instead of breaking me, life carved me into a woman with fire in her eyes and purpose in her heart.

I Don’t Want My Kids to Face What I Faced

My emotional toughness is not my pride — it’s my wound that healed the hard way. I don’t want my children to go through the same painful journey that shaped me. I want them to grow in an environment where strength doesn’t come from suffering, but from values, education, and discipline.

I want my children to study — not just because society demands it, but because I know what happens when opportunities slip away due to struggles and survival.
Even when they feel tired, lazy, or disinterested, I remind them — study for the life you deserve, not just the life you have.

Because I have lived the other side — the side where dreams get delayed, where respect has to be earned twice as hard, and where survival replaces ambition.

The Thirst for Honour and Standard of Life

Sometimes, I close my eyes and imagine my children standing tall — as officers, achievers, and respected individuals. The kind of people who walk into a room and are greeted with dignity. That honour, that standard of life, that disciplined aura — it’s not just success for me; it’s my redemption.

I am thirsty for that honour, not because I crave recognition, but because I want to see my children live a life I could only dream of.
A life where they are not questioned, not judged, not pitied — but respected.

A life where “privilege” doesn’t mean wealth, but stability, safety, and respect earned through effort and education.

Life Is Truly Beautiful Only When It Is Privileged

Yes, life becomes beautiful when it’s privileged — when worries don’t revolve around survival but around dreams.
When the mornings begin with gratitude, not anxiety.
When there’s time to breathe, think, and grow.

Privilege is not just about money — it’s about freedom. The freedom to choose your path, the dignity to say “no,” and the comfort to say “yes” without fear.

That’s the life I want for my kids — and that’s why I push them so hard.

I am not a strict mother by nature, but by experience. I have seen how undisciplined dreams die young.
I have seen how comfort kills potential.
So, I push.
I scold.
I repeat lessons.
I teach them to rise after failing, to sit with books even when the mind wanders.
Because tomorrow, I want to see them live a life where no one dares to question their worth.

Pain Transforms When It Has a Purpose

The biggest blessing of my pain is the clarity it gave me.
When you have lived through struggle, you stop chasing temporary things. You begin to build legacies.

I am not raising children; I am raising future officers, disciplined leaders, and strong souls who will never bow before the world.
I tell my kids, “Your mother has already seen the worst. Now it’s your turn to bring out the best.”

That’s not pressure — that’s passion rooted in love.

Discipline: The Bridge Between Dream and Success

I’ve learned that dreams without discipline are like seeds without water.
Discipline may feel like a burden in childhood, but it becomes a blessing in adulthood.
That’s why I wake them early, make them respect time, and push them to study sincerely — because the world only respects those who respect their own time and effort.

Every time I see them complain, I remember my own childhood when I didn’t have the privilege to complain.
That’s when I smile and say, “Keep going — one day you’ll thank me.”

From Emotional Pain to Emotional Power

There’s a saying — “A mother’s pain doesn’t end with her; it transforms through her children.”

Today, my emotional scars have turned into invisible shields around my kids. They protect, guide, and teach silently.
I don’t want them to feel pity for me; I want them to feel proud — proud of a mother who fought storms so they could live under sunshine.

I am not a soft mother anymore, but I am a deeply loving one.
My love shows in the way I discipline, the way I correct, the way I insist.
Because love without direction creates weakness.
But love with discipline creates destiny.

My Vision for My Kids’ Future

I don’t want my children to chase temporary joys; I want them to build lasting honour.
I want them to experience the privilege that comes from self-earned respect — the kind that no one can take away.

When I see officers in uniform, leaders with purpose, and achievers with grace — my heart whispers, “That’s where I want my children to be.”

Not because I seek luxury, but because I want dignity.
Not because I want status, but because I want stability.
And not because I want to prove something to others, but because I want to prove to myself — that my pain wasn’t wasted.

Final Thoughts: From Struggle to Legacy

Life made me emotionally hard, but that hardness has a reason — it’s my shield and my foundation.
I may have cried in silence, fought in darkness, and walked alone, but today I walk with purpose.

I am building a legacy — one disciplined child at a time.
Because life is not about escaping pain, it’s about transforming it into strength.
And when my children rise above the world someday, I’ll finally whisper to myself — “Yes, life is beautiful when it’s privileged.”

29.How to Live Your Dreams Along with Motherhood: A Guide to Finding Yourself Again

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How to Live Your Dreams Along with Motherhood: A Guide to Finding Yourself Again

Motherhood is one of the most beautiful and transformative phases of life. It fills your world with love, laughter, sleepless nights, and endless responsibilities. But amidst this beautiful chaos, there’s a woman inside every mother — a dreamer, a doer, and a soul who still wishes to live her own dreams.

Yet, too often, she hides her desires behind the excuse of “not having time.” The truth is — you don’t have to give up your dreams because you became a mother. You can live your dreams along with motherhood.

Motherhood Doesn’t Mean the End of Dreams

Society often paints motherhood as an identity that replaces every other role you play. But in reality, becoming a mother adds more depth to your dreams. It gives you new reasons to chase them — not just for yourself, but to show your children what’s possible.

Your kids will not How to Live Your Dreams Along with Motherhood: A Guide to Finding Yourself Again remember you just as someone who sacrificed everything; they’ll remember you as the woman who taught them to live passionately, to follow their purpose, and to never stop believing in themselves.

Being a mother and a dreamer can go hand in hand — when you believe they can.

Why Mothers Must Prioritize Themselves Too

When you nurture everyone around you but forget yourself, you eventually run dry. Self-care is not selfish; it’s survival.
Your energy, happiness, and dreams fuel your home’s emotional atmosphere.

By giving yourself permission to chase your passions, you show your children the value of self-worth, independence, and resilience.

So, the next time guilt whispers “you don’t have time for yourself,” remind yourself — your happiness is your family’s strength.

Making Time for Yourself in the Motherhood Journey

Time will never “appear” magically — you have to create it. Even small, intentional steps can open doors toward your personal growth.

Here are a few ways to make time for yourself while managing motherhood:

  • Wake up 30 minutes early for journaling, meditation, or planning your day.

  • Use your baby’s nap time not just for chores, but for something that nourishes your mind.

  • Say yes to help — you don’t have to do it all alone.

  • Schedule “me time” the same way you plan your child’s doctor visit or school work.

  • Learn to say no to unnecessary expectations or social pressure.

  • Set one small goal each month related to your passion — whether it’s learning something new, restarting a hobby, or working on a side business.

You don’t need long hours; you need consistent, heart-driven minutes.

Turning Dreams into Action

Every dream starts with a small step. Whether it’s writing, painting, baking, starting a YouTube channel, or learning a new skill — take that first step.

Here’s how you can practically start turning your dreams into action:

  • Write your dream down. Put it where you can see it every day.

  • Break it into mini-goals. If your dream feels too big, divide it into weekly targets.

  • Celebrate small wins. Every step counts — even if it’s a baby step.

  • Stay consistent. Some days will be messy, but progress is better than perfection.

  • Find your support tribe. Connect with like-minded mothers or online communities for encouragement.

Remember, your dream doesn’t have an expiry date — it just needs your attention again.

Dealing with Guilt and Self-Doubt

One of the hardest parts of motherhood is the guilt that never seems to leave. You may feel guilty for taking time for yourself, for missing a moment with your kids, or for not being “perfect.”

But here’s the truth — there is no perfect mother. There are only loving, real mothers trying their best every single day.

You don’t have to choose between being a good mom and being a fulfilled woman. You can be both.

When you live your dreams, you become an inspiration for your children — you teach them to be brave, to explore, and to live authentically.

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Real-Life Inspiration: Moms Who Followed Their Dreams

Across the world, there are countless mothers who rebuilt their dreams from scratch.

  • A mother who started baking cakes at home and built a brand.

  • A mom who began writing children’s stories after bedtime.

  • A woman who studied online at night to become financially independent.

They didn’t wait for a perfect time; they created it.
Their journeys are living proof that dreams and diapers can co-exist beautifully.

A Daily Reminder to Every Mother

Dear Mom,
Your dreams still matter.
Your happiness is not a luxury — it’s your right.
The world needs your story, your creativity, your energy, your voice.

Don’t wait for the kids to grow up or for the house to quiet down. Begin now — in your own small way.
Because the best version of a mother is the one who is alive, fulfilled, and glowing with purpose.

Final Thoughts: You Deserve to Dream

Motherhood and dreams are not opposite ends of life — they are threads of the same fabric.
When you live your dreams, you don’t move away from your children; you move closer to the woman you were meant to be.

You are not “just a mom.”
You are a woman capable of transforming ordinary days into meaningful journeys.

So, breathe, believe, and begin again.
You are allowed to dream — even in motherhood.
In fact, you’re meant to.

25. Juggling of a Mother with All the Responsibilities, Still Trying to Find Her True Self

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https://mysticalmomworld.com/17-the-day-i-learned-to-forgive-myself/Juggling of a Mother with All the Responsibilities, Still Trying to Find Her True Self

There comes a time in every mother’s life when she pauses between the rush of responsibilities and silently asks herself — “Where am I in all this?”
That moment of reflection often comes late at night, when everyone is asleep, and the only sound is the ticking clock echoing through the stillness.

Being a mother is a beautiful blessing — but it’s also a role that swallows every other identity you once had. You become a provider, caretaker, teacher, cook, problem-solver, and emotional pillar, all at once. Somewhere in that whirlwind, your own dreams, passions, and peace start fading into the background.

The Endless Roles Mothers Play

From the moment the day begins, a mother wears multiple hats. She’s the alarm clock, the breakfast maker, the peacemaker between siblings, the homework helper, and the one who remembers every forgotten item on the shopping list.

At work, she’s the professional who tries to give her best while mentally planning dinner. At home, she’s the emotional glue holding everyone together.

The world expects her to be perfect in every role — calm, patient, productive, nurturing, and wise. Yet behind that calm face lies a woman constantly juggling her sanity, emotions, and time.

It’s not easy — and it’s okay to say that out loud.

The Silent Guilt of a Mother

Ask any mother, and she’ll tell you about “the guilt.”

The guilt of not spending enough time with the kids.
The guilt of not achieving enough in her career.
The guilt of taking a break, of saying “no,” or of wanting something just for herself.

This guilt often becomes the invisible weight that keeps mothers from pursuing their true self. Society glorifies sacrifice — the idea that a “good mother” always puts everyone else first. But what happens when that sacrifice turns into self-erasure?

A mother’s love is unconditional, yes. But her existence isn’t meant to be invisible.

Rediscovering the Woman Beneath the Mother

Motherhood changes everything — body, emotions, priorities, even dreams. But underneath the layers of responsibility still lives that same woman who once had her own identity.

Rediscovering her isn’t selfish — it’s survival.

Take a moment each day to reconnect with yourself. Sit quietly, breathe, and ask —
“What do I love?”
“What makes me happy beyond my family?”

Maybe it’s painting, writing, singing, gardening, fitness, or spirituality. Those small acts of self-connection slowly rebuild your lost identity.

You’ll realize — being a mother doesn’t erase who you are; it evolves you.

Balancing the Chaos Mindfully

True balance doesn’t mean splitting your day into perfect portions. It means being present in whatever moment you’re in.

When with your children — be there completely.
When you take time for yourself — honor it without guilt.

Learn to delegate, to say no when needed. Set small, realistic goals. Some days you’ll feel like a superwoman, and some days you’ll barely get by — both are okay.

Remember, peace isn’t found in perfection; it’s found in acceptance.

The Spiritual Side of Self-Rediscovery

Many mothers find comfort in spirituality — it grounds them in moments of chaos.

Meditation, prayer, chanting, or even a simple morning gratitude ritual can connect you with your inner self. When you surrender your worries to the divine, life begins to flow more peacefully.

Lord Shiva’s meditative stillness, Goddess Parvati’s patience, or Mother Earth’s nurturing spirit — each divine energy mirrors a part of motherhood.

Connecting with these energies reminds you that your journey is sacred — not just as a mother, but as a soul evolving through love and responsibility.

How I Began to Find Myself Again

For years, I thought motherhood meant selflessness — the complete surrender of who I was. But one day, while helping my child with an art project, I realized I missed painting — something I loved before becoming a mother.

That night, after everyone slept, I took out my old colors and brushes. That one small act changed something deep inside me. It wasn’t about painting perfectly — it was about remembering who I am.

Since then, I started taking tiny pockets of time for myself. I began journaling my feelings, walking in the mornings, listening to devotional music, and reconnecting with my inner peace.

Slowly, I realized — I don’t have to choose between being a good mother and being myself. I can be both.

The Message to Every Mother

 

Dear mother,
You are not failing. You are growing.
Every day you juggle love, care, and dreams — that itself is divine strength.

You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to dream again.
You are allowed to rediscover yourself.

Because when a mother is happy, peaceful, and fulfilled — the entire family thrives.

Conclusion: A Mother’s Journey Is Her Own Creation

The journey of a mother is not a race; it’s a soulful evolution. You’re not just raising children — you’re also rebirthing yourself in the process.

So next time you feel lost in the chaos, pause. Breathe. Listen to the quiet voice within that says, “You are more than the roles you play.”

Because you are — you’re the heart, the soul, and the spirit of your home.
And finding your true self isn’t a luxury — it’s your birthright.

12. A Sleepless Night and a Journey of Love

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12. A Sleepless Night and a Journey of Love: A Mother’s Day Before Maramma Jatrehttps://mysticalmomworld.com/feeling-like-the-odd-one-out/

A Sleepless Night and a Journey of Love

 

Some days in a mother’s life are not just busy – they are unforgettable journeys of love, patience, and strength. Last night was one such day for me. We had slept very late, almost around 1 AM, yet by 6 AM, I was up again. The alarm clock was my mind itself – reminding me that I had to send my elder daughter to school and my husband to the office. No matter how tired I was, my heart didn’t let me rest because my family’s day had to start smoothly.

Morning Hustle Before Maramma Jatre

I prepared breakfast and packed the snacks box for my elder one. She had only a half day at school since it was Maramma Jatre, a local festival that brings spiritual energy and cultural celebration to our town. My little angel woke up with sleepy eyes, rubbing them gently as if pleading for five more minutes of sleep. But as always, her sweet smile and cheerful spirit made the morning brighter. We laughed, teased each other, and started the day with joy instead of rush.

Soon, my elder one and husband left for school and office, leaving me with my younger one still fast asleep. That peaceful silence – right after everyone leaves – is something every mother knows. I used it wisely to finish my packing, as that very day we were leaving for our hometown.

The Packing Marathon

“Oh God,” I kept saying to myself, “there’s so much to pack!” Every mother has this invisible checklist in her head, yet somehow we always feel something is forgotten. I wanted to ensure everything was perfect, from clothes to medicines, from kids snacks to chargers – every detail mattered because the journey was 14 hours long by train.

My husband was advised by the doctor not to lift heavy luggage, so I divided everything smartly into two trolleys, one tuck-back bag, and a laptop bag. It might sound simple, but the mental load of remembering every small thing for a family trip is enormous. Yet, as mothers, we carry it with pride.

By afternoon, my elder one returned from school. I decided not to go to the shop that day – family came first. I fed both my kids a wholesome lunch and started preparing homemade food for the train journey. I wanted them to eat healthy, comforting meals – something warm from home, not station food.

A Quick Dash for Gifts and Goodbyes

In the middle of this chaos, I realized I needed to buy a gift for my niece. So I took both my kids and went out shopping. Thankfully, we finished everything within 20 minutes! Back home, I made sure the house was clean, all switches turned off, gas checked, and things safely locked before leaving for 10 – 11 days.

It’s funny – every time I leave my house, I whisper a little prayer: “Deva, protect this home, and bless our journey.”

The Rush to the Railway Station

Our cab arrived right on time. My husband was to meet us directly at the station after work. The cab driver drove quite fast, overtaking vehicles as if we were on a racetrack. In a calm yet firm tone, I told him in kannada, “Anna, namge urgent yenu ella” (Brother, we’re not in a hurry). He smiled and slowed down. It was a small but beautiful moment of human connection – a reminder that respect and kindness always travel faster than speed.

We reached the station about half an hour before my husband. I waited with my daughters in the waiting hall, watching people rush around – some emotional goodbyes, some excited reunions, and some, like me, holding onto both children and luggage, managing everything in silence.

The Challenge of Luggage and Steps

When my husband arrived, I asked him to just hold the kids hands while I managed the luggage. I was shocked when the coolie asked for almost the price of our train ticket to carry our bags! Without hesitation, I decided to carry it all myself.

There were 28 steps to climb – two trolleys, a tuck-back, and a laptop bag – and I carried them all, one by one. My husband watched with pride and a little worry, but I felt empowered. At that moment, I wasn’t just a mother or a wife – I I was my own strength. When we finally reached our platform, I took a deep breath and silently thanked Lord Ganesha for the energy.

A Train Ride Full of Emotions

Once we boarded the train, everything seemed to settle. The rhythmic sound of the train wheels always has a magical way of calming the mind. My parents kept calling repeatedly, insisting that they would pick us up and that I should drop them and take the car. I said “No,” even though my parents were heartbroken. It’s strange how love sometimes means saying no for the right reasons.

As the train started moving, my kids said they were hungry. I opened the food boxes I had packed lovingly – rotis, sabji, some sweets – we shared our meal as the train swayed gently. There’s something sacred about eating food cooked with love during a journey – it feels like home even when you’re miles away.

Motherhood Never Sleeps

After dinner, I helped my daughters settle into their berths. The younger one struggled to fall asleep, tossing and turning. It was past 2 AM, when she finally dozed off. I couldn’t open my laptop or do any pending work. My husband and I kept a close watch on our elder one, who was sleeping alone on the opposite berth. She’s 7 now – independent but still our baby. We both made sure no one disturbed her and that she didn’t roll off the seat.

As the train moved through the silent night, I stayed awake, gazing at the dimly lit compartment. I saw people of every kind – some kind-hearted, some with rough behaviour, some unhygienic, some caring. Each face told a story, each story a reflection of humanity itself.

Somewhere between exhaustion and contentment, I realized – a mother’s journey never pauses. Even in sleepless nights and heavy luggage, in forgotten items and endless checklists, there’s a quite beauty – the beauty of giving without expecting.

Reflections of Gratitude

By morning, I was still awake but my heart was full. Watching my family sleep peacefully – my husband beside me, my daughters in their blankets – I felt blessed. Life might be tiring, but it is also tender. Every challenge, every sleepless night, every bit of struggle brings us closer to the meaning of love and responsibility.

This was not just a train journey – it was a journey of motherhood, a story of endurance and care that  every woman silently lives through.

And as the first rays of dawn touched the train window, I whispered a silent prayer to Mahadev – “Thank you for the strength, thank you for this love.”

Takeaway:

Every day in a woman’s life is a story of divine balance – between duty and love, strength and softness, self-care and sacrifice. Whether you are traveling, working, or just managing your family’s routine, remember – you are enough, you are strong, and your journey itself is sacred.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maramma

11.A Day Wrapped In Devotion, Duty, and Love

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A Day Wrapped In Devotion, Duty, and Love – Balancing Life as a Mother and Healerhttps://mysticalmomworld.com/when-everything-feels-messed-up-mothers-sy/

A Day Wrapped In Devotion, Duty, and Love – Balancing Life as a Mother and Healer

 

Morning Bliss and New Beginnings

The day began before the sun could rise – at 5 AM, with the peaceful silence of dawn whispering calmness into my home. The stillness of early morning always feels like a divine blessing, a moment when I connect with myself and my responsibilities. I began with my daily household chores, tidying up the house and setting the energy right for the day.

With a loving smile, I woke up my elder daughter, who had her Olympiad studies. Seeing her dedication at such a young age fills me with pride. As she studied, I prepared breakfast and lunch boxes for my husband and kids – a small act of love that feels sacred to me. I showered my love, while helping my elder baby get ready for school.

Before my younger one woke up, I spent a few moments lighting the lamp in our home shrine – whispering a soft prayer to Lord Ganesha, seeking strength and peace for the day ahead.

When my little one woke up, she came running to me with her sleepy smile – a moment that melts every mother’s heart. Showering each other with fun filled jokes, morning hours spent happily. Once everyone was ready, I sent my husband and elder daughter off to work and school with blessings and hugs.

Work Mode and Divine Start

After finishing the initial chores, I and my younger one left for our shop. As we entered, I lit a lamp before Lord Ganesha, invoking positivity and protection. The flickering flame seemed to whisper, “Have faith; today will unfold beautifully.”

However, the day had its own challenges. A client who had already postponed his appointment twice needed to be attended to. I called him for confirmation, and thankfully , he agreed to come. Soon, he arrived, and I completed his treatment successfully, thanking the divine for giving me the patience and strength to handle it well.

Afterward, I spent some precious moments playing and talking with my younger daughter – these little breaks are pure magic. We got back home in the afternoon, where I prepared ragi sari for her. Once she had it,  she peacefully drifted into sleep.

During her nap, I caught up on my pending household tasks and began packing my kids essentials for our upcoming hometown trip. The day was rolling fast, yet everything felt purposeful.

Evening Hustle and Surprising Visitors

By the time my elder daughter returned from school, the younger one had woken up, full of energy again. Both my girls began playing and laughing together. To my surprise they even cleaned the house, making it look neat and sparkling – they were expecting a special visit from my elder daughter’s best friend and her father, who were coming to invite us to a family wedding.

Watching my kids take responsibility like that made my heart swell with joy. However, I had to leave at my regular shop time – it was the first time ever that I had to leave them alone, even for just five minutes. Before leaving, I made sure they were safe, guided, and confident.

Unexpected Challenges at the Shop

When I reached the shop, I found my clients already waiting. I jumped straight into work without taking a breath. In between I called up my husband to confirm whether he has reached home or not. For my good, he had reached home within 5 minutes of me leaving. I took a deep relaxed breath, hen concentrated towards my work.

One of them was a new client referred by a known person. He insisted that the treatment be started immediately. Before beginning, I explained every step clearly – from procedure to charges. He agreed to everything. But soon, I realized why others had turned him away – his mouth opening was too limited, making it nearly impossible to work comfortably.

Many shops had only prescribed medicines and delayed treatment, but I chose to help him genuinely. For nearly two hours, I worked with utmost patience, handling his frequent interruptions and restlessness. The work was physically tough, but my sense of duty and sincerity guided me through.

However, when the procedure ended, he suddenly started talking about being a PR professional, boasting about his work. Before I could process that, he got up and said he needed to speak to the person who referred him before making the payment.

I politely reminded him that payment should be made immediately, but he ignored it and rushed out, promising to return in 10 minutes. Sadly, he never did.

It was disappointing – not just financially, but emotionally too. As a professional, I give my full heart and sincerity to each client, and moments like these test one’s patience and faith deeply.

Long Day, Long Route, and Little Angels

Even after this chaos, I attended one more old client, finishing around 10:50 PM. Then, I cleaned the clinic thoroughly – a small act of closure after a long, draining day.

As I stepped out, I realized the regular route home was blocked due to the Maramma Jatre, a local divine fair. So, I had to take a longer route, reaching home by 11:40 PM.

To my surprise, my little angels were still awake, their faces glowing with excitement. They insisted that we take them out for a walk under the bright colorful lights of the Jatre. Though exhausted, my heart softened seeing their joy.

While I was away at the shop, my husband attended the guests when he got back home. I had left everything well-prepared so that he and the kids wouldn’t face any inconvenience in my absence. The tray was set with mugs ready for coffee, and the wafers and potato chips were neatly arranged in beautiful glass serving bowls.

As my husband later shared, my daughter’s best friend’s father turned out to be a genuinely kind and warm person, and they had a heartfelt conversation. My husband truly enjoyed his company, and my daughters had a wonderful time playing and laughing with the friend.

When I finally returned home late night, my husband and kids excitedly narrated the entire evening, their, smiles reflecting the joy and warmth that filled our home even in my absence.

After having a quick dinner with my husband, we all stepped out together. The streets shimmered with festive energy – lights, music, food stalls, and laughter. Watching my kids walking under those vibrant lights felt like watching life itself glowing in divine colors.

After a short walk, we returned home. My daughters, still full of energy, jumped on the bed, danced, and laughed. Their happiness filled the air like music. I gathered them both into my arms, whispering softly, “My world begins and ends with you.”

Slowly, their eyelids drooped, their giggles faded, and soon, they were fast asleep. As I slipped into bed, a sense of calmness, gratitude, and divine peace surrounded me. The day was long, tiring, and emotional – but it was real, fulfilling, and blessed.

Reflections Before Sleep

Every day in my life feels like a balancing act between devotion, motherhood, and duty. Some days bring success, some bring challenges – but every day brings learning and grace.

As I  closed my eyes, I thanked Lord Ganesha once again – for strength, protection, and the love that keeps me grounded.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how chaotic life gets, love, faith, and family make everything worthwhile.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/empathy

5. A Day in My Life: Empowered, Balancing Work, Motherhood, and Self

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A Day in My Life: Empowered, Balancing Work, Motherhood, and Selfhttps://mysticalmomworld.com/is-my-struggle-real/

A Day in My Life

 

The alarm buzzes at 4.30 a.m., long before the world outside even begins to stir. For me, it’s not just the start of another day – it’s the beginning of a new chapter filled with responsibilities, emotions, challenges, and small joys that make life meaningful.

My mornings begin with a few minutes of quite meditation – a sacred time to  collect my thoughts and strengthen my mind before diving into the chaos ahead. Then comes the inevitable list of household chores: cleaning the house, folding the clothes, and ensuring everything looks somewhat organized before the day takes over.

Soon, I gently wake up my elder kid. It’s time for her morning exercise before school. She’s still half-asleep, but with a bit of encouragement – and with a few mom tricks that only years of experience can teach – she gets moving. As she finishes her routine, I rush to prepare breakfast and pack lunch boxes, making sure everyone gets something warm and healthy before they step out for the day.

By the time my husband and elder daughter leave for work and school, respectively, the house grows momentarily quite. And that’s exactly when my younger daughter wakes up. With her messy hair and sleepy smile, she greets me with a cheerful “Good morning.” and just like that, my heart feels full again. We wish each other a happy day, and a new set of adventures begins.

She is an absolute delight – playful, curious, and full of energy – until it’s time to eat. Like every other Indian mother, I sometimes rely on a bit of “Mumma’s magic” to make mealtime happen. Whether it’s turning food into stories or sneaking in a bite between her joys, feeding her is always an event in itself.

After breakfast, it’s bath time and prayers. Together, we fold our hands before the divine, chanting softly, asking for strength and positivity for the day ahead. Once our morning rituals are done, I pack her little bag – a few snacks, water, and things she might need – and we’re ready to leave for the shop.

However, this particular morning wasn’t as smooth as planned. I had been rearranging cupboards and moving heavy items around for a complete energy shift in the house- something I do once in a while to bring freshness and positivity into our home. In the middle of all this, the toilet flush broke, and the plumber arrived right when I was preparing to leave. He took almost an hour to fix it. By the time he left, I was already late for work, worried about the low petrol level in my scooter, and hoping it wouldn’t run out on the way.

Finally, we reached the shop. The first thing I did was clean the space, light a small lamp, and pray to Lord Ganesha. As if he had been listening, a customer arrived just then – the first of the day. It felt like a gentle sigh of reassurance from the universe that despite the chaos, everything was going to be fine.

By 2 p.m., it was time to return home. My younger one fell asleep during the ride back and continued her nap after reaching home. I quietly began preparing lunch, realizing I had skipped breakfast entirely. Once the food was ready, I sat down for a few peaceful minutes and ate my first meal of the day.

But peace never lasts long in a mother’s world. I soon got up to resume cleaning the house – the same one I had left in disarray that morning. By the time everything started looking decent again, my elder daughter returned from school, and my younger one woke up. We greeted each other with hugs and laughter, filling the room with warmth once more. I served them lunch, listened tp their stories, and helped them settle down before getting back to my own pending work. We even made a bathing soap for the kids.

The truth is, my back has been hurting severely for a week, but slowing down isn’t an option. With no one else to help at home or at the shop, I’ve learned to push through the pain and keep going. That’s the thing about motherhood- it teaches endurance beyond imagination.

Evening soon arrives, and it’s time to light the evening lamp. The soft glow and fragrance of incense bring calmness after the day’s rush. Around this time, my husband returns home from work. We sit together for a short tea break while the kids enjoy their milk. Those few minutes of shared silence, laughter, or random conversation feel like a luxury.

Then, I leave for the shop again, entrusting the kids to their father’s care. He handles the evening routine – assisting our elder daughter with  her online classes, dealing with the younger one’s playful tantrums, and preparing dinner. Sometimes I cook dinner before heading out; other times, he manages it all himself. We both do our best to balance work and parenting, even when exhaustion creeps in.

By the time I return home, it’s usually around 10 or 10.30p.m Most nights, the kids are already fast asleep. I quietly enter the room, kiss their foreheads, and whisper a small prayer of gratitude. Then, I have my dinner- alone but content – knowing that  everyone is safe and cared for.

If my body allows, I spend some time on the laptop – responding to messages, managing tasks, or writing my thoughts. If fatigue wins, I simply close my eyes and surrender to sleep, ready to repeat it all again the next morning.

The Rhythm of Responsibility and Love

 

Some might call it monotonous routine, but for me, it’s a rhythm – a symphony of love, duty, and faith. Every broken flush, skipped breakfast, backache, and sleepless nights adds to the melody of a mother’s life. It’s not easy, but within the chaos, there’s strange kind of peace – a satisfaction that comes from knowing you’re doing your best for your family.

Each day, I wake up with determination, even when my body protests. I push through because my daughters look up to me, my husband needs my presence around, and my dreams still whisper from the background, asking for their turn to shine.

Yes, I get tired. Yes, sometimes tears roll down quietly when no one’s watching. But the next morning, I rise again at 4.30 a.m., light a lamp, whisper a prayer, and step forward with renewed hope. Because that’s what life – and motherhood – truly is: not perfection, but persistence. I feel empowered with all the circumstances, situations, and happenings around me.

https://www.motherhoodcenter.com/balancing-motherhood-and-work

 

5. When Plans Change, But the Day Still Shines

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When Plans Change, But the Day Still Shineshttps://mysticalmomworld.com/i-will-find-time-for-self-care/

Sunday usually carry a certain charm – a mix of freedom and unfinished tasks waiting to be done. Last Sunday, I had everything planned in my head. I had a list, an idea, a mood – but life, as always, had a different plan.

I woke up thinking about how the day would go, but the universe had already decided something else for us. And in the end, I realized that even when things don’t go exactly as planned, they can still turn out beautifully – simple yet memorable.

When Plans Change, But the Day Still Shines

A Happy Start

The morning began on a cheerful note. We got up happily, with that Sunday calm in the air – no rush, no school, no deadlines. My kids were unusually cheerful, and the house felt light-hearted and peaceful.

Instead of our usual breakfast confusion, we decided to keep it simple and homely – dal chawal. Who would’ve thought dal chawal could make a perfect breakfast? But it did. It brought comfort, warmth, and a smile. There was something so soothing about that combination – a meal that felt like home in every bite.

As we sat together, talking and laughing, it felt like a slow-motion scene from an old family movie. Nothing grand, yet everything felt right.

Classes, Holidays, and Little Wins

Usually, our Sundays are jam-packed with dance class runs and errands. But since it was Dasara, there was a holiday for dance class. That tiny break gave us an unexpected pocket of free time – something rare these days.

My kids finished their online classes first thing in the morning. Watching them sit attentively in front of the laptop, balancing between curiosity and distraction, made me smile.

After class, I introduced them to something new – Canva. I wanted them to explore creativity in a different form, beyond notebooks and crayons. And to my surprise, they loved it!

They learned to design – small posters, colorful layouts, and even tried typing their names in stylish fonts.

For a moment, I saw that spark – the same one I felt the first time I learned something new. That curiosity, that sense of “Wow! I made this!” filled the room. I felt proud and peaceful, realizing that maybe these tiny learnings will someday shape their bigger dreams.

Groceries, Giggles, and Burgers

By late morning, we decided to step out for a while. The grocery list had been lying untouched for days, and this seemed like the right time.

The supermarket trip turned into an adventure – as it always does when kids are involved. From choosing chocolates ” just in case guests come” to arguing over which cereal box looked better, it was chaos blended with laughter.

And then, the hunger hit. Instead of our usual home lunch, we decided to indulge a bit – burgers! Sitting at a small corner table, munching on fries and laughing over ketchup spills, I realized how even a small meal can turn into a family memory.

It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t planned – but it was perfect. Sometimes, happiness really does taste like a bite of a warm burger shared with the people you love.

Back to the Comfort Zone

After getting back home, the lazy past afternoon began to set in. The kids sat down for homework, and surprisingly, there were no complaints or signs this time. Maybe the burgers did some magic!

While they worked, I began sorting out the groceries, folding clothes which is strangely therapeutic. The soft sound of stream and the sight of wrinkles disappearing gives a strange sense of order – like slowly ironing out the chaos of life itself.

Soon, homework was done, and the kids wanted to play. They laughed, ran around, and filled the house with their silly jokes. I sat for a while, just watching them – no phone, no rush, just being present. That simple act felt like a luxury.

Movie Time: Sky Force

Evening brought its own rhythm. The sun was setting, the lights were dim, and we decided to watch a movie – Shy Force.

There’s something magical about family movie nights – everyone curled up together, snacks in hand, eyes glued to the screen. The story of courage and passion caught our attention, and for those two hours, we were in another world.

The kids clapped at scenes that thrilled them, asked endless questions about the plot, and I couldn’t help but smile their innocent excitement reminded me that sometimes, joy really hides in the simplest moments – like watching a film together on a calm Sunday right.

Dinner, DIY, and Watching Down

After the movie, we had a quick dinner – simple, light, and comforting. By then, the  day had slowed down.

But before heading to bed, we decided to do something creative – a DIY activity. My kids had seen some ideas online, and they were eager to try. We gathered paper, glue, colors, and a bit of imagination. Within minutes, our table turned into a tiny art studio!

There was paint on hands, glitter on the floor, and laughter echoing all around. It was messy – but it was the kind of mess I didn’t mind. The kind that holds happiness.

Once done, we admired our small creation – imperfect but made with love. It was the perfect way to end the day.

A Simple Day, A Quite Lesson

As we finally went to bed, the day replayed in my mind. It hadn’t gone as planned – I didn’t do what I thought I would. But maybe that’s what made it beautiful.

Life often surprises us when we let go of our plans. What mattered wasn’t ticking off a to-do list – it was the laughter, the small learnings, the unplanned joy, and the calm at the end of the day.

This Sunday reminded me the peace isn’t found in perfection – it’s found in presence. When we live each moment as it comes, even the simplest day becomes special.

Takeaway:

Sometimes, when plans change, they don’t necessarily fail – they evolve. They teach us to slow down, to notice the small things, to laugh more, and to live with a lighter heart.

Because at the end of the day, what truly matters is not how “perfect” our Sunday looked  – but how “peaceful” it felt.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/finding-purpose

3. When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillness

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When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillnesshttps://mysticalmomworld.com/dividing-house-chores-changed-my-peace-parenting-and-practice/

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillness…Festivals in India are not just about rituals; they are about togetherness, laughter, and creating memories that stay with us for a lifetime. Among them, Dasara (Navratri) holds a special place. The lights, the prayers, the decorated streets, the temple bells, and the joy of children running around in new clothes-this is the heartbeat of the season.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly

But this year, as the world outside danced in the spirit of Navratri, our home stood still. Not because we didn’t want to celebrate, but because life had other plans for us.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Dreams That Couldn’t Take Flight

For weeks before Dasara, I had been making plans in my heart. I wanted to take my kids out for at least two days of pure joy-let them see the beautifully decorated temples, play in the pandals, maybe even enjoy the cultural programs that brighten ourcity during this season.

I had one more dream: I wanted to attend events where I could explore my potential as an artist. It’s something that brings me joy, creativity, and a chance to connect with children and families. Festivals are the perfect time for such small ventures, and I had been looking forward to being part of the festive crowds with my paints and brushes.

But when the time came, my body simply said no. My health issues grew severe, and I found myself confined to bed, watching my dreams slip away like sand through my fingers.

A Father’s Silent Sacrifice

As if that wasn’t enough, my husband too is dealing with his own storm-living with a broken femur neck. For him every step is a challenge. He couldn’t jump around with kids, couldn’t carry them on his shoulders to show them the glowing lights, couldn’t run behind them at temple fairs.

But he didn’t give up. With the strength he could muster, he took the children to the temple in the morning, and in the evening, he took them outside to play in the sand. It may sound small compared to grand celebrations, but in that moment, it was everything.

For my children, it was their little slice of Dasara-tiny hands digging castles in the sand, giggles echoing in the evening breeze, and the temple bells ringing softly in the background.

My Children’s Innocence

I had feared that my children would feel the absence of celebration. After all, festivals are about fun for them-new clothes, outings, sweets, and cultural programs. They saw other children heading out in glittering dresses, families posting festival photos, and the roads lighting up with joy.

I worried they would ask me, “Why not us?” But children have an innocence that shields them from bitterness. My little ones adapted. They filled their day with cartoons, games at home, painted themselves along with the walls and laughter on the bed beside me. They even visited a neighbour’s house for kanjak pooja. They never once complained about not going out, not getting new dresses.

Instead, they gave me strength. They became my little festival, bringing joy in the smallest ways-even if it was just through their silly jokes or tight hugs when I felt like crying.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: The Festival That Didn’t Look Like One

When I looked around my home, I realized something painful-there was no sign of the festival at all. No colorful rangoli at the door, no fragrance of flowers, no sounds of laughter from relatives visiting.

Dasara was happening everywhere, but inside my four walls, it was just another day. A mother lying in bed, a father struggling with his pain, and two little children making the best of what they had.

It hurt. It hurt deeply to see the festival go by while we stayed behind. To know that I couldn’t give my children what every parent dreams of-happy memories to cherish. To accept that my body didn’t allow me to attend even a single event, not even the art venture I had been so excited about.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Lessons From The Goddess Herself

And yet, in the middle of this silence, I felt the presence of Goddess Durga. She didn’t come in the form of grand celebrations or temple visits. She came in the form of quite strength.

Dasara is about the victory of good over evil, strength over weakness, and hope over despair. This year, my “demons” were not mythical monsters but my own health struggles, my husband’s injury, and the sadness of unfilled plans. And yet, even in this battle, I found moments of victory.

Victory was in my husband’s determination to take the kids to the temple despite his broken leg. Victory was in my children’s laughter, proving that joy doesn’t always need grandness. Victory was in my ability to endure my pain while still being present with my family.

What This Dasara Taught Me

This year, I learned that festivals don’t always come wrapped in bright colors. Sometimes, they come in shades of gray, testing our patience, our strength, and our love for one another.

Yes, I missed the crowd, the music, the lights, and the energy of celebration. Yes, my heart still aches that I couldn’t watch my children run with other kids in festive outfits, couldn’t give them the joy I had envisioned.

But maybe, just maybe, this Dasara gave me something else-an understanding that love and togetherness matter more than decorations and outings. That strength is not in being able to do everything, but in enduring when you can do very little.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Looking Ahead With Hope

I close this Dasara with a prayer. A prayer that next year, life will be kinder. That my body will allow me to take my kids out in the bright lights of Navratri. That my husband’s strength will be restored, and he can walk beside them without pain. That I can set up my art venture, adding colors to children’s smiles, and feel like I truly belong in the festival crowd.

But even if life tests us again, I know this much-the spirit of Dasara lives in our hearts. As long as we hold on to love, faith, and resilience, no festival can ever pass us by completely.

Closing Thought

Not every festival is meant to be grand. Some festivals remind us of our limitations, while also teaching us about hidden strengths. This Dasara, I didn’t see the processions, didn’t hear the drums up so close, and didn’t light my home with decorations. Yet, I saw something deeper-I saw the strength of my husband, the innocence of my children, and the quite presence of the Goddess in our little world.

This Dasara wasn’t about what we couldn’t do. It was about what we still managed to hold on to-faith, family, and love.

https://www.kidsmentalhealthfoundation.org/mental-health-resources/stress/handling-holiday-stress