This week, my body made it loud and clear that I needed a timeout. I was tired, grumpy, whiny, and teary—the kind of teary that when my husband asks what’s wrong, I start crying and say, “I don’t know.”
My body knows me well and sends up smoke signals when I need to self-correct. However, sometimes, I can be a slow learner or more likely, a bit stubborn. My older sister is wonderful at translating what my body is telling me. Yesterday I remembered something she said when I had a similar bout of miserable head congestion. It wasn’t in these exact words, but she said I had too much going on in my life and that my body was reflecting this state of overload via congestion. She’ll probably laugh when she reads my recollection of what she said, but it was something like that. Through the years, she has given me so much invaluable insight and wisdom that I wrote a song about it called, Something You Said. The chorus goes like this.
You said, “Be brave, and follow your heart. Trust yourself, and write your own story. Lighten up and have some fun. You can’t give what you don’t have. Love yourself. That’s something you said.”
Anyway, my body signaled me that I needed to rest, and I obliged. Even though we had fun dinner plans, I stayed home in my own version of time-out.
Please indulge me for a moment as I verge off on a rabbit trail. A while back, when I was visiting my grandkids in Colorado, my youngest grandson, who was almost three at the time, was misbehaving. As a result, his dad picked him up and the two of them headed to his room for time-out. As they were walking down the hall, my grandson yelled out, “Chocolate milk,” to his mom who was in the kitchen. Since he was going to be in time out, I guess he thought having a glass of chocolate milk would be nice. It was all I could do to keep from busting out in laughter.
I thought of this story while I was spending time in my own little corner of the world. I played my bass guitar, and I played on my computer, simplifying my website and making some new graphics. I found so much joy, rest, and rejuvenation in just playing and creating with no agenda or end result in mind. I didn’t realize it when I started, but a little bit of playing was just what the doctor (my body) prescribed. Even Dennis was in on the protocol. He kept bringing me his favorite ball—the one he stole from Lucy, my mom’s dog. He loves that ball. I know this because he hasn’t tried to chew it into tiny pieces, and the squeaker is still intact.
Although I love catching up with what my “rock star” friends are doing out in the bigger world by scrolling their social media accounts, and I have endless opportunities to go, see, do, and partake in fabulous activities. I hear the wise-old sage inside telling me to reel it in a little—less is more.
It’s true. I am missing out on lots of things I would enjoy. However, there is some pretty cool stuff going on right here. Yesterday, I noticed the green shoots of daffodils popping up from the ground. Across the street, our neighbor has baby ducks and chicks that are losing their downy fluff and growing grown-up feathers by the minute. On the tree out front, a pileated woodpecker is getting some breakfast. It’s a glorious day, right where I am.
Happy Sunday.
While playing with my website, I came across a song I wrote a few years back.
Here I Am
Here I am, And there you are
So patiently waiting for me to open my heart
So you can fill me up, to the very top
With your love
You see me, for who I am
Ever so gently, you take me by the hand
With the words of a song, so sweet and strong
You lead me on
Like a full moon glows against a big dark sky
You cast a light that illuminates the night
Like a gentle rain, you soak into my skin
And flood my heart with love
With the push and the pull of the ocean tide
deep in my bones, you heal me inside
With a billion grains of sand, you soften my heart
And give me a reason to go on
You remind me, to remember
Things I forgot, a long time ago
Tiny seeds, planted way down deep
In my soul
You say there’s something I should see
Someone I really need to meet
You put your hands over my eyes
And say you’ve got a big surprise
She’s fierce as a warrior, so confident and strong
Yet tender as a mother who will hold you in her arms
And when I open my eyes, I see
It’s me