Yesterday I was sick. A strange sort of vague sickness, nothing that you could put a name to or easily identify.
It was as if my Body had gotten angry and was completely rejecting me. Like it was threatening to move out, to live its life away from me. I felt pulled in different directions, torn like a parent between two children, my Body and my Mind. My Soul, as usual, was nowhere to be found. It’s not that I doubt her existence, she is very real, but she must travel a lot because often I have no idea where she is or what she is doing. Still, those rare, wonderful moments when she does grace me with her appearance are some of the most treasured times of my life and I crawl on my knees in gratitude to her.
However, yesterday she was not there. So it was only me trying to deal with this fight between my Body and my Mind. It started the first thing in the morning with my Body being surly and dragging along behind me. My Mind had to remind it two or three times to move one foot in front of the other in order to get up the stairs or lift up my hand to answer the phone. But it did perform those mundane tasks, if only begrudgingly. It got worse as the day wore on. My Body decided to inflict a terrible paleness to my face that everyone commented on and then it withheld all the benefits of my warming blood making me suffer from intense cold all day. Surely it was punishment for something I had done. And it would not eat a bite all day. My offers of food were rejected right out. It would throw them back at me with disgust; much like a teenage girl would throw back any little peace-offering before she stomped away to her room to slam the door in my face.
Finally, at last, I was able to go to bed and let my Body have its tantrum without having to make excuses for it. I put on two or three extra blankets and huddled down to endure the siege. I surrendered to it. By this time, angry as it was, my Body showed no mercy to me. It came at me like a street gang. It pounded me with headaches, it tortured my stomach with twists of pain and in a new level of cruelty, it smothered me with a fever while never once allowing me the benefit of feeling warm.
On and on it battered me while my Mind tried to enter into peace talks with it. “Was it something we ate? Is this stress related? Too many toxins in all those cleaning products? How about a weekend off? Would a soothing bath help this situation?” As hard as it tried my Mind couldn’t even get my Body to respond let alone take a seat at the negotiation table. Finally, in disgust, my Mind gave me it’s standard cold advice, “Just ignore it. Don’t give it the attention it’s craving.” Then it took its superiority away and hid like the coward I know it to be.
So my Body tore me up last night. It ripped me from limb to limb and spat on me. Finally, it was spent itself and stopped. Shaking and crying it surrendered to the comfort of the blankets to curl up and sleep, looking all innocent.
This morning we are all one happy family again. Even my Soul has returned. She showed up early, smiling slyly with her hair tangled. I knew better than to ask where she had been. But I am thrilled to see her all the same; savoring our first cup of coffee and helping me write. My Body feels wonderful today and my Mind is excited to see what the new day will bring. No mention will be made of yesterday. No explanation will be sought…it’s better to just take the good times when you can and move on. We are all a work in progress. And this morning I am overjoyed at our solidarity.