I ran myself right into a wall this week. It’s been so long since I’ve been sick, but I could feel it creeping in on Tuesday. You know the feeling, right? The heavy eyelids, the aching muscles, the scratchy throat, the sledgehammer to the head. I take pride in staying afloat when my kids or hubby are down for the count. Me, get sick? Way too busy, way too needed, way too strong for that.
Yeah. I can hear the universe laughing now, its guffaws echoing through time and space.
On Wednesday, struggling to keep my eyes open, I realized that while I may be nearly immune to my kids’ eternally germy hands, nothing can protect me from energetic exhaustion. And each of the last several days, as I’ve gone over my mental to-do list, my body has pushed back. I’m feeling forced into submission, into surrendering my concerns – from whether Tru’s getting too much screen time while I doze off to not being present enough for all the participants in the Project Light Year classroom and community.
I am getting a taste of my own medicine.
The prescription that goes something like this: you cannot serve others if you don’t first serve yourself. Damn. Hate it when my words come back to haunt me. But I love it, too.
I love the way my spirit is wise enough to get in touch with my body, how they work together to let me know I’m pushing too hard, that it’s time to ease up, that my own medicine is needed. I love being reminded that life keeps chugging along and everything falls into place even without me micromanaging it.
I do believe the universe is always conspiring in our favor – even when it gives us a dizzying head cold. And so. Body, mind, spirit, brilliant universe…I thank you for this perfectly timed reminder to rest, to treat myself to a steaming hot cup of self-love with unlimited refills. And I promise – I really, really do – to take it slow if you’ll just let me get out of my pajamas.