Our bodies have profound wisdom.
This skin suit we have is so full of information, capacity, knowledge… it picks up things we could never hear, never see. It understands things our conscious mind is never aware of. I am blessed by my body, blessed for my body.
And yet, how often have I not listened?
I work contract projects. I get hired to come in, do a thing, and leave. And yet, to teach that class, run that ritual, facilitate that discussion, drive that intensive… there is hours, days, weeks or even months of work in advance. A 2 hour class is more than a 2 hour class.
But how do I choose what classes to do?
I’ve been relying on my intellect and cerebral knowledge. Balance out calendars, look at flows and finances, debate what will work out for all parties involved.
But I have to now start listening to my exhaustion.
This weekend was fueling. I fed my heart, my body, my mind, my spirit. I connected on profound levels, fired up my imagination, and unlocked awarenesses within me. I am grateful and blessed.
And looking at future experiences… it is not the case.
Yes, it’s a fair package. Yes, it will open up a market to me. Yes… and yet my body feels heavy. I pick up the phone to talk with that specific organizer, or send out that one email, and I feel exhausted. I feel drained, on something that has no reason to be draining.
My body knows something I do not know. My body is aware of something that I am not aware of.
I have believed over the years that my mental adventures are a gift, if only I will become aware of that gift. That my supposed physical disabilities are gifts, if only I will wake up to their potential. I know this. My tongue tastes this as truth. My lips hum knowing this to be so… and yet, what do I do?
I flounder. I lash out at the fact that some days I am “broken” or “can’t work.” I do work, I just am unaware of what it is I am doing. I am percolating, I am simmering, i am polishing. If all I do is take in, or if all I do is DO, what space is left for these refinements, processing points, and the growth of my unconscious self through the act of being? Of hitting lows and in the shadow finding the texture that brings my world to life? By hitting highs and lighting up the world?
This body suit, my Fetch, my sticky one, this that I am and am not, this shapechanger skin… I see you. I hear you. And I will endeavor to implement your wisdom more regularly. You are wise, with years and tears.
The gift of fear is not our only body gift. I also feel the gift of arousal. The gift of panic. The gift of awe. The gift of exhaustion.
Body emotions, inspired by body memory. This body has been around before… we are not just reincarnated beings of spirit, all three of our selves come back around. My skin has been carbon in another form before. My thoughts have been thought before. My spirit has shone before. And all three will shine again.
Energy is not made. And nothing goes “away.”