The body told me so.

If it's not right, your body will tell you. 

i'm going to keep cooking on this. 

Entering into the New Year I articulated some pretty defined goals. Well rounded life goals. Like get groceries. Go for walks around water. discipline. quiet. focus. read. 


and what happens? I forget that and commit to high involvement on two projects. (heart in the right place, heart in the right place.) And what happens?


And what happens? 

old food bulimia behaviour creeps in. and i'm in paralysis. I'm in the thick. mud in the eyeballs. with all the stories and the stories stories and the stories of stories. I'm such a fill in all the blanks. 

but this, with some space, time, good reading, and DEAR TAPPED IN FRIENDS/WARRIORS much is revealed: my body is telling me something.




Taking what comes up, what wigs out, what shouts, what buzzes, what aches, what pounds in the body... what information is this? And if not revealed, the willingness to listen more closely. 

With such a violent manifestation of stress, I am, with a day or two away from the scene of the crime/revelation, RELIEVED to say I made a call. 


And the ego sting and swelling subsides. And when it does, what is left, what is revealed, is the deep gratitude for paying attention. Listening. Attending. Whatever the cost.