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In a Monthly Nutshell

  • Writer: Athanasia Houvarda
    Athanasia Houvarda
  • Jul 13
  • 6 min read

Updated: Jul 14


June had a steady rhythm of significant moments.


Some moments were big, others barely noticeable unless I paused to reflect on them. However, each one impacted me for different reasons. I had moments that taught me something, and moments that made me feel proud.

So here’s what June left behind, in a nutshell.


One thing I am proud of.

This month, something shifted in my new life in Canada. I feel rooted. My work as an artist, a speaker, and a podcast co-producer has slowly taken shape. And for the first time, it feels like my professional skills are recognized and my work is actually taking off.


That may sound like a neat little list, but behind it is a long journey of rebuilding, adapting, and figuring things out. I’ve always been independent and a hard worker. But being able to establish myself in a new country, and be seen and trusted for who I am and what I can offer makes me feel proud.


Which brings me to something else June gave me... a strong reminder of what it means to belong to a community that supports and uplifts you.


A moment of recognition.

As if to echo that shift, I received an invitation from the Mental Health Department at the Thunder Bay Regional Health Science Centre. They reached out and asked me to share my story and lead a difficult conversation about mental health, trauma, and healing with both the public and the medical staff.


Community Mind Your Mind Art

Being trusted in this way, especially by professionals in my local hospital, means a great deal. It’s one thing to feel welcomed in a new place, and another to be seen as someone who can contribute to the community. I call Thunder Bay home. It is where I live, where I work, and where I’ve begun to put down roots. I feel grateful to be invited to speak here, to help open up a meaningful conversation.



My presentation is scheduled for Tuesday, July 22. I’ll share more about the experience in next month’s post.


And while I see this invitation as an opportunity to connect with my local community, there was another experience this month that felt like a way to give back to a community that has always held a special place in my heart... the burn survivor community.

A way to give back.

On June 8th, I officially applied to become a SOAR supporter. A Survivor Offering Assistance in Recovery.

When I was first injured, the connection I made with another burn survivor while I was still in rehab left a mark on me I’ll never forget. His name is Nick, a father to four children, a survivor of extreme injuries. Sitting beside someone who had already walked this road, someone who understood without needing an explanation, helped me more than I could ever put into words.


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Now, I get to offer the same kind of support to others who are beginning their healing journey. I’m not there to give advice or answers. I’m there to listen, to hold space, and to show up in a real way, so they know they’re not alone. That feels right. And meaningful.


Community brings us together through shared experience, support, and understanding. But it also means we feel each other’s pain more closely. And in June, we felt that, too...


A moment that brought me regret

A week after I applied to be a SOAR supporter, I received some heartbreaking news from the burn survivor community. One of the newest members, a young woman full of life, kindness, and with a passion for art, had passed away.

I had seen her just a month before at the Canadian Burn Survivors Community conference. She had such a warm presence. We shared a few light conversations, some smiles… and that was it. When I heard the news, I felt a wave of regret. We were both artists. We had more in common than we had time to explore. And now that time is gone.


The news made me pause and reflect. Not everything in life allows for second chances. I wish I had made more of an effort to ask one more question, or speak about our artistic journeys, or even suggest that we stay in touch.

There’s no way to know where that connection could have led, but I do know that I’ll approach those moments differently from now on. If something feels meaningful, I don’t want to brush past it. I want to be present and make space for it.

A June resolution

Just as I plan to be more in touch with the people I love and care about in Greece. I keep telling myself, I’ll slow down tomorrow. I’ll reach out. And then tomorrow comes, and it looks too much like today. Time is fragile.


The things I usually let slide... the messages I forget to reply to... the people I keep meaning to check in on... it all comes down to priorities. And maybe, making time for those who matter most, means allowing ourselves to do things a little differently. I know I can’t do it all. And that is okay! But I can choose to do what matters most.


So this became my June resolution...

To plan better. To breathe a little deeper. To make time for the people I love, even if it’s just a quick message or a small moment of presence. Small changes. Big impact. And speaking of change…

Adjusting to change

Regret has a way of lingering, especially when it’s tied to moments we could have enjoyed.

There are things I used to love doing that have become harder over time, such as kayaking and paddleboarding. Last summer, my shoulders started to hurt more and more due to my burn injury and deep scarring, and instead of pushing through like I might’ve done before, I decided to stay off the water.


As the season passed, I found myself regretting not trying to enjoy the lake in a different way. So this year, I decided to finally get myself something I’d been eyeing for a long time, a water bike! It might sound simple, but my water bike has opened up a whole new way to enjoy the lake. On calm days, I ride out, let the quietness of nature and the beauty that surrounds me to soften the noise in my mind.

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There is something healing in the sound of birds chirping, in the stillness of the water as the sun sets, creating breathtaking displays of gold shades in the sky. That peacefulness has become part of my self-care.

And it feels good.



We often think that adjusting to change means letting go of the moments we love. But I’ve come to realize that change isn’t always a loss. Instead, it's a shift. What we make of it depends on the choices we make each day. And choosing to be kind to ourselves is one of the most important ones.


An unexpected act of kindness from a stranger.

Kindness can catch you off guard, even more so when you least expect it.


Dan and I were flying home from a training trip and had a long layover before our next flight. We sat down for lunch, and across from us was a couple quietly eating. I noticed the man occasionally glancing in my direction. After so many years, I’ve gotten used to the way people look at my scars and observe how I use my injured hands, so I didn’t think much of it. I am comfortable in my skin, so when our eyes met, there was no awkwardness. He smiled, I smiled back, and that was that.


A little while later, as he and his partner were leaving, he walked over to our table. He leaned a little, looked directly at me and said...


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I didn’t expect it. For a second, I wasn’t even sure how to respond. It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it. Sincere, quiet, without needing anything in return. Just a kind moment between strangers that warmed my heart.

Then he noticed Dan’s scars too, and just like that, a conversation began. Dan shared his comic book, I handed them a business card. We found out they were visiting Canada leading a meditation retreat... He was from Israel and she was from the UK.


A few minutes later, it felt strange to say goodbye. A connection we never saw coming, but one we won’t forget. A simple gesture. A warm smile. A few kind words. And somehow, our day was just… better.

In a nutshell…June had a little bit of everything.

Not everything went the way I planned. Some days moved too fast, others slowed me down. But in between, there were wins, connections, and a few unexpected turns. Immigrating to a new country brought a feeling of not belonging. So to feel more rooted this month, in my work, my community, and the life I’m building here, has been one of June’s brightest moments.


How was your June? What did it leave behind for you? Please share your thoughts in the comments; I would love to read them. Until next time, be kind to yourself, focus on what truly matters, and stay present… even in the small moments. They’re often the ones that stay with us the longest.


Thanks for reading.

Athanasia


 
 
 

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