Learning to Receive help: A Story About Stillness, Healing, and Cracked Knees

“Sometimes life stops you so you can finally learn to receive.” 

I firmly believe, now more than ever, that the universe – or some higher, bigger, guiding force – sends us to the right places and introduces us to the right people at the exact moment we need them. That’s just how it goes. 

This is my healing journey after knee injury. It’s about slowing down, learning to accept help, and discovering that sometimes, stillness is the biggest teacher of all. This is a story about receiving. Learning to take in. A lesson I didn’t ask for, but oh, how it came. 

Revisiting Old Healing Grounds

This summer, I revisited places where I once went to heal, just being me, myself, and I. I’m what you’d call a social loner – I like to process things by myself. Or as I recently learnt, the ambivert—there’s a word for that! Labels…  

Let’s rewind to a couple of summers ago. That season was a turning point. 

After moving back to Finland from years of living in Australia – studying yoga, fitness, and personal training – I was still deep in healing from a toxic relationship. Winter was all about shadow work, grounding myself again.

I worked at a local gym and yoga studio, putting my studies into action and looking forward instead of spiraling into the past. Slowly, I was starting to rebuild trust in the masculine, began to understand why I’d let things go too far for too long in my past.  

Finding My Tribe

Everything in Finland’s wellness and spiritual scene was new for me. I went to my first ecstatic dance, tried alcohol-free events, and met amazing people with whom I gradually became acquainted. That summer was filled with new beginnings, like Vipasana (you can read more about that in another post here), and volunteering at Natural High Healing Festival, which was a major highlight.  

I showed up to the pre-build of the festival open-minded and solo – not knowing what I was stepping into. Before I knew it, I was helping build a dome from scratch, rain and mud included. 

And then…CRACK. The Moment Everything Changed

“I’ve done so many adventurous things in life and walked away fine… but this time, life pressed pause on purpose.”

It was Monday. The festival days were done, and cleaning started. It was time to take down all the decorations, including our major project – The dome. One last group photo—my idea. “Lean on me like an acro pose,” I said to my new friend. 

What followed was a loud crack that everyone heard. Not my usual knee sounds (yes, they often snap, pop, and crack from trapped air, thank you yoga studies for that knowledge). This one was different. But I could move it, bear some weight on it, so I brushed it off as maybe a ligament thing. “No need to bother a doctor”, I thought at the emergency, “They’re busy.” I’ll go later to see a doctor when I’m at home. I didn’t feel pain, so no painkillers either. Just ice. Arnica Montana (which I got from a kind woman to boost my immune response as it’s thought to decrease healing time in bruises, aches, and sprains.) And rest.  

Forced Stillness

Because I had come by shared ride, I had to wait lift another day. That wait turned into a stillness I hadn’t known for the time being at the property. After days of full action, movement, building, climbing, driving, and now – I had to stop. Fully. Just sit. Be helped. Be still. Wtf. “I’m fine,” I kept saying. “Really.” But something deeper was already shifting inside me.

A new friend gave me a ride home the next day – bless him. I got intro about Human Design during the drive, which felt like another sign from the universe. Interesting way to see our roots. When I finally got home, it was too late to see a doctor. 

The next morning, I went to my local health center. A Doctor drained some fluid from my knee – it had blood in it, but I didn’t think much of it. X-ray came back normal. I was told I’d get a call if anything came up. Great. Off to Helsinki by train for a business meeting, limping through the city with a taped knee in the sunshine. Classic me.  

Thursday full day rest. Friday, I decided to train the upper body at the gym. Then the doctor called mid-session: “You need an MRI. Can you go today?” I hesitated as I had plans for the weekend, but “Umm… okay, sure.” I agreed to go.  

Got to the hospital, scan done, but no doctor available to read it yet. Time passed. I had to leave. My festival plans in Helsinki were calling, and again, I wasn’t feeling terrible  no major pain, just swelling. 

On the way to Helsinki, just when I thought I’d escaped, my phone rang again. The nurse: “A Doctor has been trying to reach you. She needs to speak with you directly.” Gulp. 

The Unexpected Diagnosis

Then the call: it’s fractured. “Don’t put any weight on it. You need orthosis and crutches. You’ll also need to start injections to avoid blood clots.” Wait – what?!

The results: fractured tibia. Crutches. Orthosis. Daily blood clot prevention injections.

Suddenly, I’m in another hospital, wristband number three. 

Wheelchair. A kind man wheels me down a long corridor. I joke: “Can you take a photo? This is my first time in a wheelchair.” He laughs and clicks the pic. (Still gotta enjoy the absurdity, right?) 

I see the MRI on the screen. Yep. Fractured. I want to cry. I hold it in. Then comes the part I’m not ready for—self-injections. I resist. “Is this really necessary?” I ask. The answer is yes. For safety. Family history of blood clots crosses my mind… okay, okay. 

I managed to convince the nurse to do the first injection. It was just too much to handle to put a needle into my body myself after all the news. I was shaking. But grateful. And after all that, I still had to figure out how to get home. No one could pick me up. It was getting late. Then I called the Kela taxi number I saw on the hospital wall. Five minutes later, a brand new Mercedes pulls up. The driver hears my story and says, “We can take you all the way home.” For 35 euros. What?! Let’s go. 

At home, I still hadn’t truly processed what had happened. I called one of the new friends to update her. Then finally—rest. 

Learning to Receive Help 

The weeks that followed were all about slowing down. Friends helped with groceries. I stayed at a friend’s countryside place to be alone and reflect. Observing why life led me there. Self-love and acceptance to that current state. I kept myself busy. I even did another volunteering gig that was a wonderful weekend in beautiful Suomenlinna island. And I asked for help – a lot. Grocery runs. Rides. Emotional support. It was humbling. And healing. 

I adapted my coaching to fit my new physical limitations. I couldn’t demonstrate everything, so I focused on language, observation, and yoga recovery techniques. When I could finally start moving again, I studied my gait, how the body compensates. I wandered the forest, picking mushrooms more than ever for myself and others. Allowing the green to heal me.  

The Moment of Freedom

Eventually, the doctor gave me the green light to train again. My first run brought tears – I was free. Healed.  

Looking back, the whole thing feels surreal. I’ve done so many adventurous, borderline reckless things in my life and walked away fine. But when I finally started finding my people again – when I started to settle – it was like life pressed pause on purpose. 

One Step at a Time

It was forced silence. It was a divine stop. And during that break, I had to learn a lesson about receiving: help, love, support, silence – even injections (which, by the way, I never fully got used to). 

I’m thankful I healed without painkillers, relying instead on breathwork, yoga, and mindfulness.

One step at a time – that became my motto. 

One Step at a Time – My Key Takeaways

• Listen to your body – even mild injuries can be serious.
• Accept help without guilt – it’s part of balance.
• Use stillness as a teacher – it reveals what movement hides.
• Healing is holistic – mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual.

Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment if this resonates or if you have gone through any similar journey. 

And most importantly, especially if you are a giver, please remember to live in the present and accept help as much as you give it – we need the balance and boundaries. Or otherwise, life will be setting you up in mysterious ways. 

Till next time..

Kind regards,
Saija