Saturday, April 27, 2013

An Open Letter To My Insides

Dear Body,

I am acutely aware of the fact that I have not been the best owner over the course of these 36+ years, however, it would be incredibly unjust of you to try and argue that I have been the worst. The tortures that you have put me through, most specifically in the last eight or so years, seem to be a bit extreme.

I understand that you were upset. Although I am still not entirely sure for what, I listened to your qualms and I offered a number of solutions:
  • Work was too much for you; I stopped.
  • You didn't want to heal the eyes; I took you out of the driver's seat.
  • You decided, all of sudden, that you hated gluten and dairy; I have taken both out of your diet.
  • You seem to hate mornings; I try to sleep through them.
  • Rainy days are a problem; I let everyone know to leave you alone.
  • The sun makes you itchy; I lather you in sunscreen.
  •  Sometimes showers make you dizzy; when you tell me, I don't get in the shower until someone is around to catch you.
I know there are even more negotiations we have made. Some have become so much of my "normal" that I have forgotten that they started because of your complaints.

Here's the deal: this is my life.

Sure, you are my vessel and all of that, but, let's be serious, you've developed some terrible habits. You need to pick up your game here. You need to take the sleep time I give you and sleep. When you take that time to actually sleep you need to restore yourself. When I feed you the fruits and vegetables that I select especially for you, you need to stop rejecting them and, instead, use them.

I am tired. Not just in the physical way you know all too well, but also emotionally. I am tired of your inconsistent, inconvenient temper tantrums. I am tired of your aches and pains that interrupt my thoughts, my actions, my writing, my reading and everything in my life. I am tired of stepping out of life for you.

The fact is, I love you. I mean I really, really do. I can't even imagine where (or who!) I would be without you. And I know 36 years is a hell of a lot to be thankful for, so I don't want you to think, for even ONE moment, that I am not grateful for every single breathing, heart-beating moment you have given me. In some ways I am even grateful for the tortures because they made the other moments glow.

It's just that today is one of those days, yesterday too, I guess, when I forgot about who you really were and I made plans. They weren't big plans. They weren't even the kinds of plans that involve other people. They were just my plans to get things done, check a couple more things off my "to-do" list, straighten up in and around the house, write some more words. I don't have to tell you they didn't get done. I don't even have to tell you why. I just wanted to let you know that I was disappointed.

I was hoping, if I told you, that you might want to surprise me tomorrow...

You don't have to. I understand you have your own issues to deal with. Just do me a favor, rest easy tonight. Enjoy your sleep.

Forever and Always Yours,
Nicole 
:)

2 comments:

  1. What a touching post. I like how understanding and compassionate you were with both yourself and your "vessel," and yet how firmly and reasonably you stated how your needs weren't being met.


    It must have been an incredibly frustrating experience. I'm sorry you have had to live through this, and I hope your body is reasonable and takes your requests to heart.

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  2. Thanks so much Tammy! I am happy to report that the following day was AWESOME. Not only did my body cooperate, but the weather did too. Sometimes I think writing out our wishes is a little more powerful that just dreaming them.

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