Healing & Starting Over
Healing Does Not Follow a Deadline
Healing does not follow a deadline: pauses, repeated tomorrows, hard days, and gradual action can all belong to an honest rebuilding process.
Healing does not follow a deadline, even when calendars, milestones, and concerned people imply that it should. A hard date can organize practical tasks, but it cannot command grief to end. You might feel capable in the morning and overwhelmed at night, enjoy a full weekend and struggle on Monday, or revisit a feeling you thought was finished. Variation is not evidence that all progress disappeared.
*Mr. J and the Tower That Fell* contains two very different kinds of delay. Before the tower falls, Mr. J keeps telling himself he will help tomorrow while his friend carries most of the blocks. After it falls, he cannot face rebuilding and works with clay. One delay avoids responsibility; the other creates a pause inside pain. Understanding that difference helps us reject both harsh deadlines and endless avoidance.
Illustration by Hafsa Asad: a hopeful first step toward beginning again
Why Healing Does Not Follow a Deadline
Emotional experiences are connected to routines, places, songs, objects, anniversaries, and expectations. A reminder can activate sadness without sending you back to the beginning. The better question is not “Why am I still feeling this?” but “What does this moment need, and what choices remain available to me?”
Progress may appear in function before feeling. You may still hurt but communicate more clearly. It may appear in recovery time: a difficult wave lasts an afternoon instead of shaping the week. It may appear in self-respect: you ask for support earlier. These changes are easy to miss if your only measure is never feeling sad.
Discern a Pause From a Repeated Tomorrow
Mr. J's pre-fall “tomorrow” leaves another person carrying the work. It postpones a known responsibility without a plan. His clay pause comes after loss, when approaching the tower feels too hard, and gives him a manageable activity until he can move closer.
Ask four questions about your own pause:
- Is someone else carrying a responsibility I have agreed to handle?
- Am I avoiding clear information or a necessary practical decision?
- Does this pause restore some capacity, or does it repeatedly narrow my life?
- What tiny check-in date would let me reassess without demanding completion?
A check-in is gentler than a deadline. “On Sunday I will notice whether I can box one item” creates an opportunity to act, not a verdict on your healing.
Make Space Without Making a Schedule for Emotion
You can schedule support and practices without scheduling the end of grief. Put a walk, meal, counseling appointment, creative session, or conversation on the calendar. Let the feeling itself be whatever it is when the time arrives.
This approach avoids two extremes: waiting to feel motivated before doing anything, and forcing constant activity to outrun emotion. If today permits one block, lift one. If today requires rest and basic care, let care be the block. The practical guide to emotional healing one small step at a time includes choices for different energy levels.
Respond to Other People's Timelines
People may ask whether you are “over it,” suggest that enough time has passed, or push you toward dating, socializing, or public positivity. You can answer without defending your entire inner life: “I am taking care of myself and not setting a deadline for this.” Or, “I appreciate your concern; what helps is company, not a timeline.”
You can also choose boundaries around repeated discussion. Patience does not mean giving everyone unlimited access to your process. Rebuilding self-trust includes choosing whom to update and which comments you will not absorb; rebuilding self-trust after a breakup offers a fuller framework.
Illustration by Hafsa Asad: a child experiencing separation and the beginning of change
Recognize Movement in the Tower Story
Mr. J eventually picks up one block, then another. His path still is not smooth: he moves a half-built tower, loses coins on the way to a toy shop, tells a gentle shopkeeper the truth, and finally cries. The crying comes after action has already begun. Feeling deeply and moving forward are not opposites.
Use a “movement record” once a week. List one act of care, one honest moment, one responsibility addressed, and one connection made. Do not grade the size. This record offers evidence of change when emotion makes the entire season look motionless.
Offer Children Patience Without Removing Responsibility
Adults can say, “You do not have to stop feeling sad today. What is one thing that would help us take care of you and one responsibility we can do together?” This validates emotion while preserving agency. The book's closing activity—name a feeling, breathe, and begin with one small block—makes that balance concrete.
*Mr. J and the Tower That Fell* is listed for ages 4–8 on Amazon and can support K–5 discussion with adult guidance. The book page provides details for families and educators. Adults should adapt questions to the child's context and never force a child to explain a private family situation.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is every pause healthy?
No. A pause should be reassessed, especially if obligations, functioning, or safety are deteriorating.
Does nonlinear healing mean nothing can be measured?
No. You can notice choices, functioning, recovery time, communication, and willingness to seek support without imposing an end date.
What if my distress is not easing?
Consider qualified professional support, particularly when distress is persistent, severe, or interfering with basic daily life.
Bring *Mr. J and the Tower That Fell* Home
This book fits families and adults who need permission to pause while still keeping one gentle path back toward responsible action.
Order *Mr. J and the Tower That Fell* on Amazon or visit the official book page to learn more about the story, classroom use, bulk school orders, and author visits.
Dave Joisil—known as Mr. J—is a certified Health and Physical Education teacher and an independent Black male children's author. Supporting his independently published work helps make room for more educator-created stories and Black male representation in children's books.