I’m sniffling, sipping hot water with lemon and averaging
three oranges a day. A self-deprecating voice dictates, resulting in a rather
blue disposition. I’m wishing I had taken my own yoga teacher advice and spent
the last few weeks speaking more kindly toward myself.
Typically, the themes of my yoga classes reflect my own life lessons on and off the mat. Speaking kindly toward myself is one such lesson I’m still learning and this lesson inspired last Sunday’s yoga class. Flowing with Robert Kiyosaki's quote (above), class focused on positive affirmations and honoring the whispers of the body as a form of innate wisdom.
Well, I haven’t been speaking kindly and listening to my
body. My desperate need to get back to doing! was almost a form of punishment
for the time spent recovering from the upchuck disease. I didn’t grant myself full recovery
time and as a result, I’m here riding the last waves of a cold.
So, watery eyes and dull aches force me to hibernate. At
first, this self-proclaimed rest means watching reruns of “Sex and the City” on
E! (I’m a Carrie girl forever) and pinteresting. This is not restorative. Too
much TV and too much Internet overwhelms my sensitive, out-of-balance system.
I’m still in do! mode when I call to reschedule a hair
appointment, and I’m utterly grateful for my beautician who lovingly tells me
to sleep and rest. Her advice echoes the inner whisper telling me to turn off
the TV, to stop all forms of attempted productivity and sleep.
At first my go!go!-self resists but sleep heals and
restores a sense of peace. Upon waking I rest in silence. No music, no
background TV noise, just darkness and quiet. The thought gremlins do not
appear. I listen to the layers of sound and sense the silence holding the
sounds. I’m entranced by the silence - it’s soul nourishing.
The silence allows me to turn inward and see what prompted
my physical spiral to upchucking and sniffling. Energetically, I believe
suppressed emotions, unprocessed experiences and negative self-talk manifests
in disease. From this understanding, I become aware that my physical cold
represents inner crying, a child-like part of me that needs to be
compassionately listened to and soothed.
An old memory emerges from childhood: I walk into an ice
cream shop and am socially shunned by a group of my school peers who are also
there (one of whom was my ex-boyfriend from the first grade). The memory
relates to a recent experience of walking into a public space and feeling
disconnected and purposefully left out from a group. My ex from the first grade
wasn’t there this time, but the same quiet voice hissed, You don’t belong and I believed it. I break my own heart with my
self-sabotaging thoughts, but I can also heal it.
Rachel Naomi
Remen writes about our own inner ability to heal and create an
internal sanctuary for peace and healing. So, to soothe the inner child, I
envision a radiant, healthy version of myself holding and cradling the younger
me affirming my belonging.
Trusting this inner healer, I listen and honor my body as
I gently recover from this bout of sickness, which is a gift and a lesson. It’s
a reminder to listen to the body’s whispers before they become wails. It’s a
gift to witness the strength of my body that wishes to heal and recover optimal
health. I’m making trust and forgive my February mantras, knowing
that a loving word whispered to self can be just as healing as a cup of hot tea
steeped in lots of goodness and love.
