Just Being Me

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I’m typing this blog post in bed. I’ve got a nasty bug that has made my throat agonizingly sore, my head pound, and my body ache. I’m sporting the Rudolph nose at the moment. My voice is gone. My brain is fuzzy and all I can seem to contemplate is this soft, fuzzy blanket on my bed. There’s truly something amazing about soft, fuzzy blankets. I’m telling you. Snuggling under one is one of life’s best treats.

So, you might ask, why am I writing a blog post right now? For one reason only. I want you to know that I’m actually not working today. (Trust me. This will be a short post, and I’m writing it because it feels right to do so.) I have a whole, long fancy post already written that I could edit and organize. I’m not going to. Instead, I am listening to my body. I am listening to my soul.

What did they say to me today? My body said—rest. And do nothing. My soul said—don’t push or force or work. Only do what actually feels right today.

Here’s the thing: I’m listening.

And that deserves to be celebrated. For so many years, I didn’t listen. I pushed through, waited until I was sicker, or, if I did rest, I piled guilt and “shoulds” on myself so that I was miserable while doing so.

Not today. Today, I am showing up exactly as I am. I am not achieving a darn thing. I am not doing anything well. In fact, I’m not doing anything. I’m following what feels easiest, most enjoyable, and restful. And fun. Writing to you about this felt fun. Lifting a finger to do anything else did not.

I’m not editing this. I’m not spending lots of time on it. I’m just writing from the heart, showing you that I am truly doing what I teach you and my clients. Maybe I don’t do it perfectly. Maybe I should have listened to my body before I got sick. And that’s actually perfectly fine, too. I didn’t. So here I am. In bed, sick. Listening. Being my imperfect self. Treating myself nicely. Laying self-judgment down and picking up self-love. I’m really happy about this. That’s why I wanted to share it with you.


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