Why I Let Go of Gel Nail Polish (And What It Taught Me)
🌀 A Soul Lesson from the Everyday
This piece is part of a new series called Soul Lessons from the Everyday—reflections on the quiet wisdom tucked into the rhythms of daily life.
Through tender metaphors and simple moments—a hurting toe, a chipped mug, a passing glance—these pieces explore the subtle ways the soul speaks, invites, and teaches us. For those who long to live more deeply, slowly, and soul-fully.
If you’ve ever had an ingrown toenail, you’ll know how painful it can be when there’s pressure on it. And you’ll also know that leaving it to grow only leads to more pain. It’s amazing how often these everyday experiences reflect the bigger picture of life.
I’ve had a recurring issue with an ingrown toenail. About seven or eight years ago, I used to have appointments every six weeks to get my toenails done with gel polish. At each visit, the ingrown nail would have grown so much that we’d spend the first ten minutes just tending to it. And because of the pressure, even scraping off the gel polish became painful.
Looking back now, I’m amazed I put myself through that. And I know, without a shadow of doubt, that I’d never do it again.
I need access to tend to my nail.
(And from a Soul-Full perspective, we always need access to tend to our soul.)
You can see, dear friends, it’s not just about the nail. We need access—into our lives and our inner worlds—so we can tend to what’s bothering us. These things resemble the ingrown toenail: they quietly grow, become tender to the touch, and eventually demand our attention.
Without access, and without care, we end up carrying irritations that affect us in almost every waking—and even sleeping—moment. And when any pressure is applied to those areas, the pain intensifies.
So yes, I could have kept my nail appointments for lovely, polished toes. But what would be the point of surface-level beauty if there’s pain festering underneath?
How does one enjoy the shine when discomfort is just beneath it?
Sometimes it feels easier to mask the pain—especially when it isn’t as persistent or vocal as an ingrown toenail. But if we’re paying attention, it’s not so easy to hide from what’s really bothering us. These tender places within are often inviting us to notice what still hurts—and what still needs tending to.
Because pain, unaddressed, becomes an obstacle. And obstacles—especially emotional ones—are masters at keeping us from our own potential.
We often want to leap ahead to resolution. But when we slow right down, we begin to understand:
pain can be an agent of change too.
It comes with its own wisdom, with its own way of teaching us what we need to know.
And though our world offers endless ways to numb our pain, perhaps there’s something sacred about becoming people who are resilient enough to feel—to understand the mechanisms of pain and what it has to teach us about the art and business of living.
This is the first in a series of reflections exploring these everyday moments and their deeper invitations. I hope it offers some soul-soothing and thoughtful company on your own path.
With heart,
Lalita