It is Monday, & I am tired.
I was kept up for most of the previous night by howling winds & pelting rains, tossing & turning & getting startled awake by gusts that shook the room & bent the trees outside. I am in a fog. I can hardly concentrate at the task at hand—what am I doing again? Oh yes, responding to emails, trying to finish that one last sentence that seems to be trapped inside of my head.
I take a swig of my day-old, now-cold coffee hoping that it’ll rattle the words out of my mind. I get nothing. I need to focus more. It’s in there, I just need to focus.
Then I hear an unexpected voice. . .
Go on & rest. You’re tired. You should take it easy today. Go on & lay down.
These words come not from my mind so much as they come from my body, my breath, my blinking, heavy eyelids. They reverberate throughout my being, echoing, resounding.
Again. . .
You should lie down. You’re tired. You need to rest.
Annoyed, I protest. Are you kidding me? But I cannot rest! It is Monday, the most adult, the most powerful & important day of the week! I have things to do! Emails to be composed, writing to be done, a kitchen to be cleaned, a shower to be had, more coffee to be warmed. . . I cannot rest! That would be absolutely irresponsible of me.
I go back to the email I am painstakingly trying to finish, watching the cursor blink, listening to rain fall, conscious of the way the light of the sun continues to peek out from behind dark clouds, then disappears once more, taking the room from glowing to blue-tinted dimness. The wind howls louder.
Once more, that voice.
Rest. You need to rest.
These words are vibrating inside of me now, making my head feel heavy, enticing me to rest my body on something soft & plush. I could ignore them again; I could go back to that damned blinking cursor & finish the words that are trying to become; I could wave my body’s urges away with continued irritation.
Instead. . . I choose to listen.
I close my laptop.
Self-love is not a passive thing. It is a conscious, continuous effort; it is acknowledgment, listening, honoring.
We must choose to tune in. We must choose to honor. We must choose to take away the megaphone our critical mind is holding & give it to our inner voice, our intuition.
It starts there.
Even in stillness, even in going back to bed, even in doing nothing there is proactive, responsible, caring & kind self-love.
Yes, even there.