What My Injury Taught Me About Music, Healing, and Coming Back Stronger

A while ago, I herniated a disc, and for about a month I could barely move. It was one of those experiences that changes your relationship with your own body almost overnight. Until something like that happens, it is easy to take movement for granted, to assume your body will simply keep carrying you through whatever life asks of it. Then suddenly, even the smallest movements can become complicated, painful, or exhausting, and you are forced into a kind of stillness you never would have chosen for yourself.

Slaying that MRI

For me, that was especially difficult because I am someone who loves movement in every sense of the word. I love traveling, dancing, creating, performing, exploring, and feeling active inside my own life. So being stopped like that felt frustrating, humbling, and deeply unnatural. But like many difficult periods, it also created space for something else. Since I could not move much physically, I started moving in other ways. I listened more deeply, spent hours discovering new music, and found myself expanding my selection in a way that felt both creative and emotional.

Music and Healing

Music has always been much more than entertainment for me. In hard times, it becomes something else entirely. It becomes comfort, release, escape, inspiration, and sometimes even a kind of cure. During that period, it really did help heal me. Not in a dramatic or magical sense, but in the very real sense that it gave me something alive to hold onto while my body was struggling. It reminded me that even when life becomes smaller for a while, something inside you can still stay open, curious, and moving.

Like a lot of people who suddenly find themselves injured and stuck at home, I also watched a fair amount of TV, and one of the tracks I discovered during that time came at the end of an episode of Shameless. It was “Zheng Oud and Udu”, and it immediately drew me in. It has this beautiful eastern, ethnic atmosphere to it, and there was something transporting about it that felt especially powerful at a time when I could not physically go very far. It felt rich, textured, a little mysterious, and somehow exactly right for that moment.

Another track that stayed with me was “Furious Loop” by Seigg. The name itself felt a little too accurate, because I was definitely in my own furious loop during that period. But instead of trapping me in that feeling, the track did the opposite. It lifted my mood and made me want to move so badly. At a time when movement felt distant, that urge was both painful and motivating, and maybe that is part of why the track hit me so hard.

I also discovered “The Godfather” by Malezaki, which brought me a different kind of joy. I love Italian music, I love Italy, and I love the emotionality and drama that so often live inside Italian sound and culture. So finding that track felt like one of those small but meaningful gifts that arrive at exactly the right time. It reminded me that even in difficult periods, excitement, beauty, and inspiration can still find their way in.

Beyond the music itself, the injury taught me something much bigger about the body. It made me understand, in a much more real way, how important it is to take care of it. Not as some extra task on a to-do list, but as the foundation for everything else I love doing. Movement, freedom, performance, travel, creativity, tennis, dancing, work, joy - all of it depends on having a body that is supported, listened to, and respected. Before this, I understood that idea in theory. Now I understand it differently.

Since then, I have been extremely consistent with physical therapy, and that consistency has become part of the healing itself. Healing is not glamorous. It is repetitive, slow, sometimes frustrating, and often built out of very small steps. But there is also something powerful in that. There is something grounding about showing up for your body again and again, even when progress is gradual, and trusting that those small acts of care are building you back.

I am already back in the game, which I am deeply grateful for, and soon enough I also plan to be back in another game too - on the tennis court. That return means a lot to me, not only because I missed it, but because coming back to the things you love after a difficult period always feels a little deeper. You return with more awareness, more gratitude, and maybe a different kind of respect for what your body carries you through every day.

Looking back, I would never say I am grateful for the injury itself, but I can say that this period sharpened something in me. It deepened my listening, expanded my selection, reminded me how much I rely on music in difficult times, and taught me an important lesson about care, patience, and recovery. It also became part of my creative world in its own way.

During that time, I recorded a set that was inspired by the music I found and by the emotional landscape of that whole period. You can listen to it here: Naheget Shodim on Mixcloud.

Music and healing.