Crawling Is Still Forward đž
"Fall seven times, stand up eight." â Japanese Proverb
Thereâs something sacred about the crawl.
âI will rise, even if I must crawl first.â
It doesnât look strong. It doesnât look glamorous. Itâs not the kind of moment people post about. But itâs real. And often, itâs the most honest moment in a healing journey.
I remember a season where âgetting upâ didnât mean making art or finding clarity. It meant brushing my teeth. Opening a window. Answering one text.
Everything in me ached. Not physically, but existentially. Like I had sunk so far into myself, I forgot where the surface even was.
And yet⌠I kept crawling.
That crawl is what kept me alive.
That crawl is what got me here.
Sometimes we think healing must look like momentum; like a sunrise after a storm.
But it rarely does.
More often, it looks like patience. Resistance to collapse.
The stubborn decision to keep going, even when youâre not sure why.
Rising isnât a one-time act. Itâs a thousand tiny choices.
And if today, all you can do is crawlâŚ
Crawl with your eyes half-open and your heart half-broken. That still counts.
Hereâs your invitation todayâŚ
Ask yourself:
âWhat does rising look like for me todayânot in theory, but in my current emotional reality?â
Now strip away what should be on the list.
Pick one small act that whispers: I havenât given up yet.
Make a meal.
Drink some water.
Take a shower.
Tell the truth.
The size doesnât matter. The direction does.
"Fall seven times, stand up eight." â Japanese Proverb
Itâs not the fall that defines you. Itâs the quiet insistence to keep returning to your feet, however slowly, however shakily.
Have you had a âcrawling seasonâ? The kind where progress didnât feel like growth, but like survival?
What got you through?
Or if youâre in it now, whatâs helping you hold on?
Let this space hold your story, even if itâs messy. Especially if itâs messy. We rise better when we rise together.
You donât have to run today. You donât even have to stand tall.
You just have to begin again.
Crawling is not failure.
Itâs the beginning of flight in slow motion.
Let that be enough.
And if you need to rest⌠rest.
But donât mistake rest for regression.
You are still on the path.
And one day, without even realizing it, youâll look up and realize⌠youâve risen.
Thanks for reading todayâs Healing Text.
If youâre here, youâre part of something honest, something that makes space for healing without the performance. And I donât take that lightly.
If todayâs message met you where you are, and youâd like to support the work, here are a few simple ways to do that:
â [Buy me a coffee âď¸]
â [Grab a book đ]
â [Rock some merch đ]
And if youâre craving deeper reflections, long-form stories, raw journal entries, and shadow work tales that cut through the noise, I write those in my other newsletter, Healing Thoughts.
Want access to the full archive and exclusive posts?
Consider becoming a paid subscriber on Substack. It helps keep the writing alive and the lights on.
Whether you support with a share, a coffee, or just by showing up⌠thank you.
With gratitude,
â Ryan Puusaari âđ