Essays
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I have been in the field of alternate healing since I was 18 years old. I’m obviously still working on myself but there’s this weird obsession people have with results and cure expectations when it comes to healing.
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I have lost track of the number of people who have asked me why I don’t pursue my healing practice for others more diligently. For years, I have focussed only on decoding myself, using all the tools I have learnt to unlock my own mysteries.
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Sometime back, a friend and I were brainstorming how they could document a pivot in their career. They were quite clear: I don’t want to put anything on social media because my people are used to seeing me in a certain way and I’m not ready to overhaul that image.
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My reading this year has been the slowest since 2018, when the sight of how few books I had read led to a mini panic attack. I have been reading non-stop ever since but by November 2025, I burnt myself out so thoroughly that even the sight of my beloved Kindle made me feel queasy.
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I was brainstorming for the letter J with Claude and it came up with an idea that joy may have big meaning in everyday life but it doesn’t work particularly well in fiction.
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It can be so annoying when in the middle of your work day, where a million things are happening, you’re mentally planning for a trip and you’re 20% checked out of the system because it’s a Friday, you also have to pause and allow yourself to throw a tantrum.
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A few days back, I talked about the 11 Days Letter Writing Challenge and how the participants of the challenge spoke to different aspects of life for a message. So, I thought of speaking to my creativity and below, is the message it had.
tales of Suchita 