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My journey of an unplanned pause, documented through an art ritual.
When my life paused! unexpectedly, my mind didn’t know where to rest. That’s when an art ritual became my anchor.
My journey of an unplanned pause, documented through an art ritual.
Time fell silent,
When my life paused! unexpectedly,
My mind didn’t know where to rest.
That’s when an art ritual became my anchor.
Let’s talk about Unplanned Pause!
A moment when life slows down without your consent. It can happen due to injury, illness, burnout, or circumstances beyond your control.
I experienced one such pause in November 2025.
I experienced one such pause in November 2025.
While returning from a trip, I fell from a moving train and badly injured my ankle.
I was unable to walk. Later, medical reports confirmed an ankle fracture, and a cast was placed around my left foot, restricting my movement for a few months.
I was lying on my bed, spiraling into self-reflective thoughts that affected my mind more than my body.
I lost track of the days. My time felt stagnant without the distraction of work. I felt irritated and restless, with no release for my internal energy.
But beyond medication, my art ritual helped me navigate this unplanned pause in my life.
When no one was around, the ritual stayed with me, holding my emotions together. It gave structure to my days and supported my recovery.
But beyond medication, my art ritual helped me navigate this unplanned pause in my life.
When no one was around, the ritual stayed with me, holding my emotions together. It gave structure to my days and supported my recovery.
Every day, I sat with my pen, ink bottle, paper, a cardboard and myself.
My attention was continuously documented through these drawings. I stayed in one place until I filled the entire page. There were no corrections and no planning.
During this meditative flow, I also recorded my sitting time, emotions, and the thoughts that arose in my mind.
Art did not remove my pain, but it helped me live with it.
Those 50 days of my recovery resulted in 50 drawings.
Those 50 days of my recovery resulted in 50 drawings.
Through pen, ink, and paper, everyday I captured a distinct state of attention and emotions.
Day 01
ANCHOR
took me 68 minutes to draw
I was sitting in my 10x10feet room, feeling the heavy weight of this new cast. My mind was spinning with negative thoughts about not being able to work; I felt so stuck. I asked my mom to bring my pen, an ink bottle, a fresh sheet of A4 paper, and a piece of cardboard to serve as a steady base. As I cleaned the nib with a tissue and made the first mark on the paper, the room began to feel different. The scratch of the pen on the paper was the only sound that mattered to me during that hour.
In that pause, art finally had my full attention.
Day 02
STAGNATION
took me 66 minutes to draw
Stuck beside my bed, I watched the light hit the walls. I felt irritated because my routine was broken. Again, I pulled out my cardboard and paper, trying to find a rhythm. My thoughts were messy, and my patience was low. I focused on the consistency of the ink as I refilled the pen. I starting to see that this detour is teaching me things my original plan never could. I just have to stop fighting the stillness of the room.
Learning more from this detour than from the plan.
Day 03
HORIZON
took me 72 minutes to draw
I moved to the terrace today, to draw in the silence. Sitting by the parapet, I put my pen kit on the parapet and held the A4 sheet on the cardboard. My head was buzzing with an idea that felt blocked. But then, the noises in the head went silent, and I could hear the birds moving here and there. I stopped overthinking and just let the pen flow. The open sky made my world feel a bit bigger. The lines found their own way once I let go of the desk.
Solution arrives under the open sky.
Day 04
CORRECTION
took me 79 minutes to draw
Back in my room, the construction noise was irritating me, so I picked up my pen, paper and moved to a quiet corner of the terrace. Drawing felt like a daily reset for my mind. It helped me slow down and not get lost in overthinking. The day had a few small setbacks, but the ritual helped me adjust and move forward. The page felt like a place where I could organize my chaos.
Felt like a setback, but it was just a correction.
Day 05
PERMEABLE
took me 74 minutes to draw
A simple conversation turned into something deep and scary today. We shared a truth that had been hidden for a long time. I sat in my chair with my cardboard on my lap, feeling a physical lightness. As I drew, it felt like the hard walls. I built around myself were turning into something permeable, like this thin A4 sheet. The ritual stayed steady while I figured out this human connection. We finally built a bridge where the wall used to be.
Vulnerable truths built a bridge where a wall once stood.
Day 06
PRESENCE
took me 82 minutes to draw
I woke up feeling the heavy weight of what everyone expects from me. I decided to move slowly, just me and my tea. I sat with my ritual kit, watching the birds in the garden. The cast didn’t feel like a cage today; it felt like a reason to just be here. I didn’t produce anything “useful” for the world, but I stayed present for myself. The ritual held that space for me when I had nothing else to give.
Doing very little regularly is the entire point.
Day 07
KINDNESS
took me 88 minutes to draw
I was coming back from a doctor’s visit when I felt a hidden tension, a “muffled sound” of things left unsaid. It made me feel unsettled and anxious. Instead of getting angry, I sat with my ink bottle and cardboard. I chose to be kind while I drew. The process helped me wash away the grievances of the day. My hand followed a softer current, and the air in the room felt clear by the time the nib was dry. Art really does eliminate grievance.
Kindness clears the air more effectively than tension.
Day 08
WHISPER
took me 103 minutes to draw
I was offered a glimpse of a big future today, and I wanted to rush toward it. But as I sat on the terrace, my pen paused. My intuition whispered a single word: wait. I observed the pull of my ambition against the stillness of my leg. I chose to listen to the quietest voice in the room. I let the paper hold the chaos of my dreams so my mind didn't have to carry the load of the unknown anymore.
Wisdom is found in the whisper who tells you to wait.
Day 09
SWEETNESS
took me 116 minutes to draw
My fingers felt clumsy on the paper today, and my logic was flawed. I just focused on the feel of the nib against the sheet, no interest, no greed, just raw interaction. When the small victory of filling the whole paper, it felt so sweet. I’m learning that when I’m this deep in the drawing, my self-reflective thoughts finally stop. It’s a sweet relief to just be a learner again in this small space.
Small victories taste sweet when they finally arrive.
Day 10
CENTER
took me 118 minutes to draw
Social media made me look for public recognition today, but the spotlight went somewhere else. It left me in a quiet, lonely space. I sat at my desk with some old drawings and the sound of the music triggered my flow. The pressure lifted from my brain as I translated my fast thoughts into these visuals. I stopped trying to be a "respected person" and just allowed myself the simple friendship of being present. I am finally finding my way back to the center.
This ground holds the echo of my first step.
Day 11
WARMTH
took me 114 minutes to draw
I went to the terrace today because my emotional battery felt dangerously low. I wanted silence, but my ritual needed me, and I chose to show up even though I was empty. Sitting near the cool stone parapet, I moved the pen and realized that it actually refills my own spirit. It felt like I was pouring from a dry cup, but the warmth of the ritual stayed with me. Sometimes showing up is the only way to heal.
Giving to others somehow warms what remains within.
Day 12
FLICKER
took me 124 minutes to draw
There is a secret hope I’ve been hiding in my room, and today it started to feel real. I sat with my previous drawings spread out around me, feeding that tiny light with a bit more faith. The noise of the house felt miles away because I was so focused on the tip of my pen against the A4 sheet. This stillness doesn't feel like a cage anymore; it feels like a choice, I am finally making. The spark is finally becoming a flame.
Hope is no longer just a spark; it has my full attention.
Day 13
SOFTEN
took me 118 minutes to draw
I faced an intellectual challenge today that felt as stiff as this cast on my leg. My first move was to fight it, but I didn't have the energy to stay that rigid. I had to consciously soften my hand and my plan. The smell of nature from the terrace helped the ink move without so much friction. I learned that a breakthrough doesn't happen when you push; it happens when you finally stop.
Breakthrough arrived only after I stopped pushing.
Day 14
REBELLION
took me 132 minutes to draw
I needed to break this boring cycle, so I looked at a tree on the terrace like I’d never seen it before. I heard birds and felt a small rebellion against the "sameness" of being stuck in recovery. I set up my ink and paper, and this little shift made the old world feel new again, even with the weight of the cast. My lines today captured a rhythm that was always there; I was just too busy to notice it before.
New route makes the old world feel undiscovered.
Day 15
GROOVE
took me 141 minutes to draw
Old family patterns tried to pull me back into the same tired drama today. I sat in my terrace corner with my cardboard and ink, choosing to watch the triggers without letting them move my hand or mess with my calm. I am building a new groove in my mind so I don't fall into the same old patterns of anger. The wheel of my life no longer fits the path I used to follow so blindly. I’m finally drawing a different way home.
Different choice creates a new way home.
Day 16
RESTORE
took me 107 minutes to draw
Today, I chose not to show up for people I had once made promises to. Instead, I showed up for my ritual. It felt easier to be honest there, no performance, no pretention, no social drama to navigate. Just me, the ink, and the page. In that quiet space, I didn’t have to explain anything or become someone else. The drawing allowed me to stay close to myself, move at my own pace, and exist without pressure.
Restored by the very presence of the drawing.
Day 17
REFUSAL
took me 126 minutes to draw
A new idea came to me and felt clear at first, but when I looked closer, I realised it wasn’t the right time to follow it. With the cast on, I couldn’t explore things freely anyway. So I sat quietly in my room, listening to the low hum of the heat convector, and chose to stay with my drawing discipline instead of chasing something new. Sometimes, progress comes from what we decide not to do.
Stepping back is often the surest way forward.
Day 18
RELEASE
took me 153 minutes to draw
My mind was a messy blur of ideas and to-do lists today, feeling as loud as the construction noise outside the room. The A4 sheet became a "chaos catcher," a place to dump all that noise so my head didn't have to carry the volume anymore. By the end, the lines didn't feel like a struggle; they felt like a necessary release. The page held my chaos on the cardboard so my mind could finally rest.
Lines held my chaos so my mind could finally rest.
Day 19
FORGIVE
took me 168 minutes to draw
Today, I spent the time sitting on the terrace parapet, thinking about the person I was a year ago. I chose to forgive him for all the stumbles and mistakes that brought me to this moment. He was doing his best with the map he had. As the cool air hit my face, I used my pen to start a fresh A4 sheet. Today, I am finally drawing the first lines of a map that belongs to the person I am becoming.
I forgive the map to draw a path of flow.
Day 20
BASE
took me 149 minutes to draw
The energy of the last few days reached a peak today with a major meeting, and the outcome has me feeling incredibly happy. While the momentum pushed me toward a bold next step, I realized the foundation for that move still needs a bit more grounding. Instead of rushing, I chose a deliberate pause. I spent time in my room, surrounded by my art, focusing on strengthening the base of my plans.
Foundation matters more than the castle it holds.
Day 21
COMPROMISE
took me 143 minutes to draw
I sat on the terrace today, listening to the tools from the construction nearby humming in the distance. I was thinking about a relationship that’s stuck because our paths were just too different. I hate needing help just to move my kit, it makes dependency feel like a physical weight. But as the pen moved, the lines showed me that we don't have to fight. Compromise isn't a loss; it’s just a new direction we found while I sat there still.
Third path usually reveals itself in the stillness.
Day 22
PATIENCE
took me 136 minutes to draw
My drawings on the walls feel like they’re watching me heal slowly. I sat in my room with my cardboard and ink, trying to focus on the long game instead of just wanting quick results. I noticed my water bottle sitting nearby, a small thing I’m finally learning to manage alone. I’m leaning into the quiet patience my body demands right now. I’m making these marks for the future me, hoping he will be whole and running again.
Today was a gift to the person I will be tomorrow.
Day 23
SPIRALS
took me 112 minutes to draw
I had a social gathering to go to, but I stayed home. It’s daunting to face the world when you can't even walk right. I turned my focus towards my art ritual instead. It acted as an anchor, pulling me out of the spiral of overthinking and back into my own strength. By the time I finished, my hand felt lighter, and my spirit felt restored.
Art is a magnet that pulls the spirit back into the world.
Day 24
RECALIBRATION
took me 158 minutes to draw
News came from far away today and it changed the landscape of a relationship I’ve had for a long time. I sat by the parapet, watching the scent of the ink mix with the afternoon air. I’m trying to understand the past differently now. It’s like some parts of our lives are written in invisible ink, only becoming clear when we are forced to pause like this. Some stories just need time to become clear.
Recalibration is just another way of learning the new.
Day 25
SURRENDER
took me 129 minutes to draw
A creative block hit me today, feeling as immovable as this cast on my leg. I stopped fighting the flow and just started the simple, rhythmic task of organizing my tools and cleaning my pens with a tissue. The solution arrived the moment, I stopped looking for it, coming out of the mundane order I was creating. I’m learning that my mind finds its way only when the pressure to produce is gone and I just let the pen lead.
Mind finds its way when the pressure is removed.
Day 26
KEY
took me 147 minutes to draw
A mentor gave me some advice today that sounded so simple, but it was deep. I sat in the outdoors of the studio, watching how even the most basic lines on the A4 sheet could hold such complex emotions. I am learning to look for the small, efficient movements instead of trying to force a big breakthrough. It’s the simplest keys that actually open the heaviest doors. I’m just trying to stay a student and listen to what the ink says.
Simplest keys often open the heaviest doors.
Day 27
DECIDING
took me 172 minutes to draw
I felt a huge pull to see beyond these four walls today. I sat on the terrace with the cool breeze hitting my face and finally committed to a future journey. Just deciding to go made my current restriction feel temporary and the sky feel limitless again. The act of making that choice was the real beginning of the trip. I’m moving forward in my mind, even if my body is still anchored to this chair for now.
Destination matters less than the courage to move toward it.
Day 28
RESPECT
took me 161 minutes to draw
I dealt with a complex power dynamic today, learning when to hold my ground and when to yield. In the quiet of my room, I noticed how even this pen needs different pressure to make a mark that actually lasts. I found a resolution that favored respect over just winning. Respect is a currency that is worth much more than victory. I’m learning that the right words and the right pressure change everything on the page and in life.
Respect is a currency far more valuable than victory.
Day 29
REVERSE
took me 186 minutes to draw
Looking back over all the drawings I made this month, I don’t see a straight line toward recovery. It’s a map of twists and turns. The logic only starts to show up when I look at the whole stack of A4 papers from where I am right now. This ritual has been the only constant while my internal world was shifting. I’m realizing that the path only makes sense when I view the whole month in reverse, one sheet at a time.
Path makes sense only when viewed in reverse.
Day 30
BREATH
took me 194 minutes to draw
I spent the day chasing clarity in mind and searching for answers of life in the loud noise of the world. By evening, I came back to the silence of the page. The biggest insights finally came out of the white space, not the noise. The loudest truths from this month have never been shouted; they were always just a breath. It was there the whole time, in that quiet moment just before I picked up my pen to begin.
Truth is the silence in the breath before you speak.
Day 31
HONEST
took me 178 minutes to draw
Back in the studio today, feeling the cool air on the floor as the morning light stretched out. My sister dropped me off, and as her car door shut, I was left alone with the silence of the workspace. I set up my kit, the cardboard, A4 sheet, and ink bottle and started drawing my strange line, as I found a strange peace in drawing these lines. The physical restriction of the cast felt small compared to the mental work of these lines.
Failing to be perfect is a version of being honest.
Day 32
HEAL
took me 152 minutes to draw
A stranger in a shop held the door for me today, their eyes dropping to the blue fiberglass of my cast. It’s funny how a visible mark brings out so much kindness, but people can't see the internal fractures I'm carrying. I sat in my room and reached for my pen; the scratch of the nib on the paper feels like medicine for the parts of me that are hidden. The lightness I feel after drawing is a real relief. It heals the things that no one else can see.
People respond to outcome, but rituals heals the process.
Day 33
VESSEL
took me 164 minutes to draw
I sat in the outdoors of the studio today, and the sun was so bright that my A4 sheet felt warm to the touch. I stopped seeing this injury as a problem and started seeing my body as a temple that needs this daily ritual. This focus is making my hand sharper and my attention more precise than it was before the pause. My legs were still, but they felt like the engine pushing my hand across the page.
Body is a vessel, and the ritual is the flame.
Day 34
SCAFFOLDING
took me 181 minutes to draw
The heavy structure of the cast has begun to feel like a strange kind of scaffolding for my day. I sat by the terrace parapet, watching the ink dry in the light breeze. As I moved the weight of my thoughts onto the paper, I felt a physical lifting of the pressure in my brain. I reached for a tissue to clean my nib and watched the lines become dynamic appointments for a mind that used to be a blur. I feel more awake here.
I am more awake when I am lost in the lines.
Day 35
GRATEFUL
took me 197 minutes to draw
The metallic noise of construction in the house was so loud today, but I didn't let it touch me. I picked up my kit and slipped into the flow, turning the friction of the day into one smooth, steady line on the paper. The chaos of my family felt like a distant hum while the pen was moving. I feel a quiet gratitude for being able to show up regularly with my pen and cardboard. The page holds the noise so I can find some silence.
Line are a supportive friend rather than just a art ritual.
Day 36
PERSPECTIVE
took me 215 minutes to draw
My small room feels massive today because of the 35 drawings placed on my table. I moved my kit very carefully, with a new respect for my body and its recovery. After the final stroke, I felt a dizzying relief, like I had offloaded all the weight of the week's thoughts. I am finding that my brain responds to this repetition like a muscle getting stronger. Stillness has given me a view of life that movement never could.
Stillness formed a perspective that movement never could.
Day 37
FOUNDATION
took me 189 minutes to draw
Everything feels uncertain lately, but this ritual is my steady ground. On the terrace, the smell of damp concrete and sharp ink mixed together as I drew a complex path. The construction workers offered to help me, their worry focused on my cast, but I was focused on the internal science of my flow. I felt a calm authority over my own pace today. This structure isn't a cage; it’s the foundation for the person I am becoming.
Structure is not a cage; it is a foundation.
Day 38
DISSOLVE
took me 237 minutes to draw
I felt the 'saroor' today, a quiet intoxication where the hand seems to move faster than the thought. I sat in the studio, moving between the shifting shadows of the indoor and outdoor spaces, watching the ink settle into the grain of the paper. The deeper I dove into the act of discovery, the more the world outside seemed to dissolve into a soft blur. I didn't even notice the time passing until my ink bottle was empty. In this flow, the weight of the world just disappears.
Deeper I dive, the more outside world dissolves.
Day 39
UNIQUE
took me 244 minutes to draw
My metric for a good day is how "light" I feel after finishing a drawing. I sat by the parapet as the sun dipped low, feeling a surge of energy that felt like it could last forever. I’m realizing that my brain is a bit different, and that uniqueness is a gift. It’s what allows me to see the world through these lines. Each drawing is a weight removed from my soul. The ritual has become my operating system for life.
Each line is a weight removed from the soul.
Day 40
RHYTHM
took me 279 minutes to draw
I looked at the stack of forty sheets today; it’s a record of a month lived at my own custom pace. This cast has been a strange teacher, forcing me to find a rhythm that respects my spirit rather than the clock. As I closed the session and put away my ink, the empty water bottle beside me felt like a symbol of the energy I had poured out. I feel a stability now that goes way beyond my injury.
Finding my own rhythm in a world that only rushes.
Day 41
FLOW
took me 286 minutes to draw
The world outside the studio just stopped existing today. I slipped into the current and didn't want to come back. I picked up my kit, the pen, cardboard, and A4 sheet and felt that "saroor" took over. My hand moved on its own, tracing paths that felt more like discoveries than plans. This quiet intoxication is happening so often now. It leaves behind a clarity that words miss. The pressure in my brain just lifted. I felt so present.
I let go, and the flow took me home.
Day 42
FRAGILE
took me 210 minutes to draw
The cast was removed today, leaving my foot feeling thin and strangely fragile. I thought I’d be happy, but I felt scared because I still can’t walk. I sat on my terrace with my cardboard and ink, trying to anchor my shaky energy. The doctor said the bone is mending but the muscle is weak. I used the drawing to hold my uncertainty. It’s hard to trust my body again right now.
Bone is recovering, but the spirit must learn to walk again.
Day 43
STILLNESS
took me 298 minutes to draw
I sat for nearly five hours today with my pen and paper. This stillness I learned while I was stuck has become my biggest strength. I’m actually afraid that once I can run again, I’ll lose this quiet focus. I watched the shadows stretch over my A4 sheet on the terrace as I committed to this custom pace. I’m listening to my own rhythm now, not the world’s. This slow pace is my new daily hygiene.
Stillness is a gift I never knew I would learn through art
Day 44
LOVE
took me 314 minutes to draw
I’ve realized this ritual is the love of my life. I sat in my studio space, cleaning the nib with a tissue, feeling a deep sense of belonging. The pen and paper are honest; they don't demand anything but my attention. For over five hours, it was just us. The paper fought me a little today, but we found our way. This intimacy of showing up every day is what keeps me steady in a very noisy world.
This ritual is the love that finally brought me home.
Day 45
WHOLE
took me 336 minutes to draw
Time just vanished today. This immersion feels addictive, like a healthy surge for my ADHD brain. I can see the drawings on my walls, they are biomarkers of my healing. I stopped caring about the outcome and just focused on the process of refilling my ink. I’m just a learner watching the lines grow. My brain feels whole today. It’s finally getting what it needs. The soul is happy, so the mind is quiet.
Brain loves what the soul approves.
Day 46
SANCTUARY
took me 355 minutes to draw
Our studio was so silent this afternoon. For six hours, my world was just the point where the ink meets the A4 sheet. I thought about the future, about walking and running, but I feel protective of this quiet sanctuary. My different brain needs this. It’s the only place where the chaotic noise of the world finally stops. I’m not an artist; I’m just someone finding their flow. This is now my operating system for understanding life.
My mind is the lens behind these lines.
Day 47
LIGHTNESS
took me 384 minutes to draw
Today was like a marathon of presence. I sat with my kit, drawing for over six hours. Each line felt like a heavy weight being removed from my soul. I’m not just drawing; I’m building mental strength for the long game. The sun went down while I was still in the flow. I’ve stopped fighting the pause in my life. I’m just moving with it now. I feel so light tonight, like I’m finally floating.
Every line leaves my heavy heart a little lighter.
Day 48
SURRENDER
took me 405 minutes to draw
I sat for nearly seven hours today, watching the ink dry in patterns I didn't even plan. I’ve completely surrendered to the process. My hand is just a channel now, translating thoughts I didn't know I had. I decided today that this will be my lifelong ritual. I never want to lose this custom pace I found while stuck in my chair. Being a conduit for this work is the only place I feel truly like myself.
True flow lives where your heart meets the hand.
Day 49
SACRED
took me 413 minutes to draw
Surrounded by seven weeks of work, my small room feels sacred now. I spent all afternoon at the desk, looking at the persistence on the walls. I’m not just the guy who fell off the train anymore. I am the captain of my soul. I stayed focused on the pen’s glide and the smell of the ink. I’m more awake here, in this silence, than I ever was in the busy world outside.
I am more awake when I am lost in the lines.
Day 50
QUIET
took me 427 minutes to draw
The final drawing took more than seven hours. It’s also striking to witness how the intensity of the drawings deepened over time since the first day of recovery. I am walking now, but my mind is finally running free. This ritual did not just support my ankle, it slowly reset my way of living. I found a lasting “saroor”. The loudest truth was never a shout or a big win; it was always a whisper, waiting in the quiet before I began.
Art is a quiet flow where truth finally speaks.
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“Through HopeinArts, I share how an art ritual gave me hope during a difficult pause in my life. If you ever face one, art rituals may help you too.”
— Shubham Chopra
Supported by AIM Gallery, India, to extend the Arts & Health conversation into communities and institutions worldwide.
Creator & Curators:
Shubham ChopraArt Ritual Practitioner |
People Behind the Story:
Gurpreet Kaur Jauhar & Munish JauharFounders, AIM Gallery |
Creator & Curators:
Shubham Chopra
Art Ritual Practitioner |
Gurpreet Kaur Jauhar & Munish Jauhar
Founders, AIM Gallery |
