sick days.

my body protects me with a great ferocity.
is that even a word?

well anyway. my dad is always telling me to listen to my body. and i've also been told that if you listen to your body, you'll always be led in the 'right' direction. because, after all, why would your body do anything to destroy itself in the end? you know, go with your gut. it's a good point.

so the trick, then, is to listen.

but it gets tricky when
you absolutely LOVE everything you're doing,
and you just WANT to do more,
and
"of course",
and
"YES!"

i've also been told that sometimes i might be able to get away with saying, 'let me think about it.'
but i feel the surge of YES! as adrenaline, as spirit, as soul! and so, YES! it usually is.

and then. my body has to speak up a little louder, until, finally, i hear it.
and spend two days in bed.

but, what a gift: two whole days of my pillow, and my comforter, and my breath, and my thoughts, and my body (finally happy, being heard).
and my body has great messages to tell: awareness of thigh, of eyelids. consciousness of right ring finger, and ankle. the balm of breath. the salve of sleep. enough sleep to exhaust even dreams.

what is your body saying to you tonight?

note to self:

don't wait for screaming sickness to hear the whispers of life within the skin. you'll be glad you made the time. trust me.

so it is.