My Body Talks To Me

My body talks to me.

Some times I listen.

But mostly I don’t.

There is another part of me that is scared. So very scared. What happens if our body is broken? Like irreparably broken? What then? What does that mean for the next 70 years? These 30 have been hard enough.

If I was to let my fears speak they would say:

• We can’t have things that hold us back. We have to be perfect. We have to be able to perform always.

• If my body is broken and we do succeed that’s hollow success - it’s not a real award or success unless it’s the top award.

• What if we never heal? What if this keeps taking us away from what we want to do.

• It’s a distraction. We can’t have distractions from the mission.

• Taking pain medication is cheating.

• Doing anything to alleviate the pain is cheating.

I don’t know where this fear came from. There isn’t a specific moment or even a series of moments that spring to mind.

Sometimes it’s not my body - it’s that my body has been hijacked.

I still don’t listen.

They scream louder.

I am really good at ignoring things.

Sometimes I think it’s triggered when I am feeling strong. When I get to a new level of strength. They don’t like that for some reason.

I wish they would tell me.

Well they probably are and I’m just not listening.

Our negotiation isn’t going to get anywhere right now.

The best I can do is offer myself kindness. One gentle step forward at a time. Bringing it all with me. Feeling it all. And still going forward.