The Last Burden He Carried Was Himself: How Praveen Stopped Saving the World and Started Listening to His Feet
- Madhukar Dama
- 2 days ago
- 10 min read
Scene: A quiet, sunlit room with floor cushions, soft herbal aroma, and birdsong in the background. Praveen, worn out, sits across from the Healer — a grounded, deeply present man in his fifties.
Healer (soft voice, welcoming tone):
Sit comfortably, Praveen.
You’re safe here.
Just breathe.
Let your body arrive.
(a moment of silence)
How are you feeling… right now?
Praveen (after a pause):
Honestly?
I don’t even know.
My feet are in pain — as usual.
But inside?
There’s just this… fog.
Confusion.
I feel like I’m falling apart.
Healer (gently):
You’ve been holding yourself together for a long time, haven’t you?
Praveen:
Yes.
Decades, I think.
Always managing things.
Always being the one others could count on.
Healer:
And who did you count on, Praveen?
Praveen (voice falters):
No one.
It’s just… always been me.
Healer (leaning forward slightly):
Let’s trace it back.
You’re the eldest child, right?
Praveen:
Yes.
Two younger sisters.
Healer:
And your parents?
Praveen:
Strict.
My father was… cold.
Disciplined.
Work was everything to him.
My mother — busy, stressed, always managing the house.
I think I became the “extra adult” very early.
Healer:
Do you remember when you first felt like you had to take care of everyone?
Praveen (after a long pause):
When I was 7.
My mother had a miscarriage.
She cried for days.
I brought her tea, wiped her tears, made her laugh.
And I remember her saying, “You’re the only man I can depend on.”
Healer (quietly):
That one sentence… became your entire life’s script.
Praveen (eyes wide):
Yes.
I think…
I never stopped trying to be that man.
For everyone.
Unveiling the White Knight
Healer:
Praveen, there’s a pattern here.
In psychology, it’s sometimes called the White Knight Syndrome — someone who feels valuable only when rescuing others.
Does that feel familiar?
Praveen:
Yes.
Almost painfully so.
Healer:
What happens when you try to focus on yourself?
Praveen (shrugs):
I feel guilty.
Or I feel selfish.
Or just… empty.
Like I don’t know who I am, if I’m not needed.
Healer:
And that guilt — who taught it to you?
Praveen:
Society.
Parents.
School.
Even religion maybe.
"Serve others",
“sacrifice is noble”,
“be useful”.
It’s everywhere.
Healer:
But is it true that your worth depends on how much you suffer for others?
Praveen (hesitates):
I… don’t know anymore.
Connecting Mind and Body: Plantar Fasciitis as a Messenger
Healer (soft but direct):
Now let’s talk about your feet.
Tell me… when did the pain begin?
Praveen:
About four years ago.
It started as morning stiffness.
Now it’s constant.
I’ve tried everything — insoles, ice packs, physiotherapy…
Healer:
But the pain stays?
Praveen:
Yes.
Healer:
Praveen… your feet carry you through life. But what if — your soul doesn’t want to walk this life anymore?
What if the path you’re walking, this constant rescuing, is actually hurting you?
Praveen (tears welling up):
So the pain… is a protest?
Healer:
Yes.
Your body is protesting a life where you are missing.
You’ve walked for everyone else — but never for yourself.
Praveen (barely a whisper):
I’ve never had a life of my own…
The Silent Loneliness of the Unmarried Rescuer
Healer:
You never married?
Praveen (shakes head):
No.
I kept delaying it.
First my sisters’ education.
Then their weddings.
Then my parents’ health.
Somehow…
I was always too responsible to “settle down”.
And now… it feels too late.
Healer:
And do you feel lonely?
Praveen (voice cracks):
Deeply.
But I also feel numb.
Like I buried that part of me long ago.
I told myself I didn’t need companionship. That I had duties.
But… in truth…
I yearn to be loved.
Healer:
And do you believe you deserve to be loved, even when you’re not saving anyone?
Praveen (tears flowing now):
I don’t know…
Healer (placing a hand over his heart):
Then that’s where we begin.
Healing through the Five Holistic Principles
1. Diet – Reclaiming Nourishment
Healer:
Let’s start with your food.
What do you eat in a day?
Praveen:
Whatever is quick.
Usually rice, curd, maybe something fried. Often cold.
No fixed times.
Healer:
Food is the most basic form of self-care. Let’s make your meals warm, grounding, and intentional.
No more eating on the run.
Can you sit down, eat with awareness, and thank your feet before every meal?
Praveen:
Yes. I can do that.
2. Lifestyle – Restoring Rhythm
Healer:
Your life lacks rhythm.
Your body doesn’t know when to rest or move.
Do you have even ten minutes a day just for yourself?
Praveen:
No.
Not even that.
Healer:
Then we begin there.
Morning sunlight.
Barefoot on soil, if possible.
Gentle stretches.
Not as exercise — but as love letters to your feet.
Praveen (smiling faintly):
I used to love walking barefoot in the fields…
Healer:
Let’s bring that back.
You’re returning home.
3. Stress – Befriending the Nervous System
Healer:
You live in hypervigilance — always scanning for who needs help next.
What if you paused, and scanned yourself instead?
Praveen:
I don’t even know what I feel anymore.
Healer:
Let’s begin with the breath.
Place your hand here…
(He places Praveen’s hand over his chest)
Breathe slowly.
In.
Out.
Can you feel it?
Praveen (eyes closed):
Yes.
It’s shaky… but there.
Healer:
Every time you feel pulled outward, come back to this breath.
This is your anchor.
4. Relationships – Rewriting Boundaries
Healer:
How many of your relationships are mutual, nurturing?
Praveen:
Almost none.
Everyone sees me as “the strong one”.
Healer:
Are you ready to stop being “the strong one” and start being the real one?
Praveen:
That terrifies me.
Healer:
Then it’s probably the most healing thing you can do.
Say no.
Speak your needs.
Some will leave.
Let them.
You are not here to be everyone’s savior.
Praveen:
But who will I be… if I’m not fixing others?
Healer (smiles kindly):
You’ll be Praveen.
And that’s more than enough.
5. Purpose – Returning to Meaning
Healer:
You studied agriculture.
Why?
Praveen (softening):
I loved the soil.
The silence.
The science of it.
I wanted to help farmers truly thrive.
But I got pulled into government work, papers, protocols…
Healer:
So let’s ask — how can you return to that love?
Not duty.
Not expectations.
But your real purpose?
Praveen:
I could… volunteer in soil health projects. Or work with regenerative farming groups…
Healer:
Yes.
Let your purpose be rooted in love, not guilt.
Closing the Session
Healer (softly):
Praveen… your healing will not be instant.
But it begins today.
With one choice: to live your life for you.
Will you take that step?
Praveen (tears, but smiling now):
Yes.
For the first time, I want to walk my path.
Healer (with warmth):
Then your feet will heal.
Not because of any miracle — but because they’re finally walking home.
------
Chapter Two: The Weight of the World and the Lightness of Being
Setting: A monsoon morning in a quiet village guesthouse. Praveen is sitting on a low cot, looking at the rain through an open window. The air smells of wet earth. He has returned to his ancestral village for a break. The Healer visits him for a follow-up conversation.
Healer (entering quietly, smiling):
You look more rested, Praveen.
Praveen (smiles softly):
I feel… different.
Still aching sometimes, but less like I’m drowning.
And more like I’m finally breathing.
Healer:
How are your feet?
Praveen:
They still hurt in the mornings, but I walk now.
Slowly.
With attention.
I even walk barefoot on the farm sometimes.
The pain feels… like a reminder.
Not a punishment.
Healer (nodding):
Beautiful.
Pain that is acknowledged becomes a teacher, not a jailor.
And what about the rescuing — how is the White Knight?
Praveen (laughs lightly):
He still shows up.
Especially when my sister calls crying about her marriage.
Or when farmers talk about pesticide dependency.
Or when I see news about climate disasters.
But I don’t jump in the same way.
I pause.
I ask, “Is this truly mine to fix?”
The Savior of Soil and the World
Healer:
You once said you felt responsible for reversing climate change.
Praveen (sighs):
Yes… for years I felt I had to save the soil, stop desertification, fix broken farming systems, re-green the planet.
Like I was single-handedly holding back catastrophe.
Healer:
And how does it feel now?
Praveen:
Lighter.
I still care — deeply.
But I no longer feel I must be the hero.
That was pride hiding behind service.
Ego disguised as virtue.
Healer:
That’s a powerful realization.
Praveen:
I’ve come to see that the earth doesn’t need rescuing.
It needs companionship.
And so do I.
Now, I compost in silence.
I plant saplings and don’t post about them.
I work with a group of village youth — not as their leader, but as a fellow learner.
I am not the sun.
I am just a seed in the soil.
Resistance and Inner Earthquakes
Healer:
And what about resistance?
The people who were used to “old Praveen”?
Praveen:
Oh, they protested.
My relatives said I’ve become selfish.
My old colleagues think I’ve “lost ambition”.
Even my own mind — it shouted at me.
“How dare you rest when the world is burning?”
But I stayed with the discomfort.
I let it pass like a storm.
Healer:
And what did you discover on the other side?
Praveen (deeply):
That I am more than my usefulness.
That I am allowed to enjoy life.
That it’s okay to lie in the grass, laugh at the sky, cook for myself, and love quietly.
Facing Loneliness with Open Eyes
Healer:
And your loneliness — the ache of never marrying?
Praveen (pauses, then smiles):
It still visits me, especially at night.
But now, I meet it like an old friend.
I ask, “What do you need?”
Sometimes it says — "touch", "laughter", or just "someone to witness me."
I’ve started speaking more openly.
I even shared a poem I wrote with a woman in my village group.
She said it made her cry.
Healer:
That’s brave.
Vulnerability is the soil where love grows.
Praveen:
Yes.
I’m no longer in a rush.
If love comes, it will be as an equal — not a rescue mission.
The Subtle Fruits of Practice
Healer:
Are you still following the five principles?
Praveen:
Yes.
With more ease now.
Diet: I cook warm meals for myself. I eat with attention. I offer the first bite to the earth in silence.
Lifestyle: I wake with the sun. I sleep before midnight. I walk barefoot again.
Stress: I breathe. I journal. When I feel overwhelmed, I go to the banyan tree and just sit.
Relationships: I’ve let go of the takers. I’m building new ones based on truth.
Purpose: I work now not as a savior, but as a steward. I help where I can — and rest when I must.
A Quiet Blessing
Healer:
You’re blooming, Praveen.
Not because you changed everything — but because you’re finally being true.
Praveen (smiling deeply):
Thank you.
You showed me the way, but I had to walk it.
And that walk — painful as it was — brought me home to myself.
Healer:
And that, my friend, is healing.
Not fixing.
Not saving.
But coming home.
Closing Scene
Praveen walks out into the rain. The ground is soft under his feet. He doesn't flinch. He smiles. The White Knight has stepped down. And in his place, stands a man who finally walks the earth, not as its savior — but as its beloved son.
----
Beautiful — let’s begin Chapter Three of Praveen’s journey.
This chapter takes place several months later.
The physical pain in his feet has softened. The rescuing impulse has lost its grip.
But a new stage begins — the integration phase. In this chapter, Praveen:
Returns to his old town to confront unfinished ties
Encounters a younger version of himself in a struggling intern
Begins to mentor without rescuing
Revisits his parents, this time from a new consciousness
Finally sees the difference between helping and healing
Chapter Three: The Gardener of Boundaries
Setting: A dusky evening. Praveen stands in a half-renovated agricultural training center in the outskirts of his old university town. Dry leaves rustle outside. The walls still carry echoes of past pressures — medals, charts, faded photographs of farm rallies he once led. But something has shifted. He walks not as a rescuer, but as a gardener — of soil, and now, of souls.
Scene 1: The Mirror
A young man in his twenties, Harsha, is pacing near the shed. He looks pale, burdened, almost desperate.
Harsha:Sir, the water testing reports are delayed again. And the village meeting's tomorrow. I’ll stay up all night if needed. I’ll make it happen. I have to.
Praveen (softly):Why?
Harsha (surprised):Because they need us. If I don’t do it, who will? I promised them solutions.
Praveen (smiling faintly):Let me ask you something…When was the last time you promised yourself anything?
Harsha (confused):Sir?
Praveen (looking out the window):I used to sound like you. Every word.But saving others while ignoring your own life…It doesn’t make you noble. It makes you vanish.
A silence falls. Harsha looks down. The wind moves the branches gently. Praveen’s voice is calm, kind — not trying to teach, only to reflect.
Scene 2: The Homecoming
Later that week, Praveen visits his parents. It’s the first time in years he goes without an emotional armor — no proving, no pleasing.
His mother hurries in with turmeric milk and scolding.His father is quieter, scanning his face for signs of “achievement.”
Mother:You look thinner. Are you still roaming barefoot like a baba?Why don’t you settle down? You’re not getting any younger.
Praveen (smiling gently):Ma, I’m more settled now than I ever was.And these feet… they’re finally healing.
His father doesn’t speak much. But when Praveen begins talking about soil — not as a crisis but as a mystery, not with urgency but reverence — the old man finally leans forward.
Father (softly):You speak differently now.
Praveen:I listen to myself now.
There is no dramatic closure. But something loosens — a knot generations old.
Scene 3: A New Kind of Giving
Praveen begins offering small circles — not workshops, not crusades. Just quiet spaces in the village for farmers, youth, and elders to sit, breathe, and speak truths they’ve never shared.
He listens more than he instructs. He asks questions like the Healer once asked him:
What pain are you carrying that no one sees?
What are you still trying to earn from people who cannot give it?
What would happen if you let go of being useful for one day?
People cry. Some resist. Some laugh nervously. But all of them feel something shift.
He keeps a little stool in the corner of each circle — empty. It’s a reminder.Not all wounds need to be filled. Some just need space.
Closing Scene: Letter to the Healer
Praveen writes a letter, his handwriting slow, earthy.
Dear Healer,You once said healing is not becoming someone new — it is remembering who you were before the world needed you to forget.I now walk slower. I speak less. But I feel more.I met a boy who was once me — and I didn’t rescue him. I saw him.I met my parents — and no longer needed their approval to breathe.I met the earth again — not as a battlefield, but as a friend.And above all… I met myself, not as a broken warrior, but as a patient gardener of boundaries. With barefoot gratitude,Praveen
Title for Chapter Three:“The Gardener of Boundaries”Subtitle: When a man stops saving the world, and begins tending to it — one breath, one person, one seed at a time.
Would you like me to sketch out the visual for this chapter too — say, a scene where Praveen is listening in a circle of villagers, or the symbolic empty stool?