There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy. — Zarathustra Part I, Chapter 4, On the despisers of the Body (1885)

Christmas night: Gavin and his bike slide on driveway in slow motion right before dinner.

I go into Mom mode. The mind is spinning. Conner needs to nurse. Gavin needs something. What? Leg hurts. How bad is it? Where do we go? Whom do we call? Which emergency room? Ice. Children’s tylenol. Arnica. Breathe. Conner needs milk. Go walk to house and get ready to drive to hospital. Where’s Deia. She’s screaming at someone. Deia. Oh sweet Deia. Middle child. Just watch a show and leave me alone. Conner needs food. Diapers. Me. How long will we be gone? Gavin. Oh my poor baby. It’s bad. I feeeeel it in my womb. This is not going to be over in a couple hours. I know it. Keep breathing. Moment by moment. Why isn’t anyone answering my texts. Where do we go?!!! Phone charger. Ice pack. Baby carrier for Conner. Go check in with Gavin. Oh my poor baby. It’s not good. It’s not good. But he’s OK. He’s breathing. He’s conscious. There are angels. We are ok. Get in the car and breathe, Emily. Drive. Get grounded. Just go to Burt and Laura’s. Ok Deia is ok. Deia. Poor Deia. She’s scared too. She will be ok. But oh sweet Deia watching her mom and dad in circles and her brother hurt and they drive away without her.

It goes on like that for two or three days. I go back and forth from fear to faith and confidence and trust in Spirit and the surgeon and the nurses. Not to mention my husband. My wise husband. My family. My friends. So many incredible texts and emails and calls. Not even worrying about Deia because she’s so happy with her best friend and her family of choice:). Conner feels the lack of sleep and stress. He gets a fever and bad cough. I only cry a couple times for just small amounts of time. Trying to stay strong to manage all the logistics, drive safely, make “good” choices. Stay calm and strong and present for Gavin.  Gavin gets a fever in ER, post surgery. It’s “normal” they say. Okay.  Trust. Fevers are good. Let it burn off what his body doesn’t want. Lots of trauma to his body and mind and spirit. Let it GO. Release. Trust. Surrender. But honor what is coming up. Literally.

I don’t honor my body. I am in my mind, my wild mind. Grounded and operating in mom mode from stomach down, and shoulders up.

The house is crazy, Gavin’s settled though. Visitors abound. His fever breaks. He has honored his body, is coming from a balanced place of mind, body and spirit.

I on the other hand have not checked in with myself. I have not really exhaled. I have not asked my heart how it feels.

And then it starts…. the hot, burning, intense PAIN in the left breast. It’s getting harder by the moment. So much pain and intensity and fire. It’s reminding me to check in alright. So I do. But it won’t stop there. It wants more. It wants me to feel the vulnerability. Honor the fear of seeing my baby boy all casted up in the hospital. Hooked up to the IV. Hallucinating from the morphine and whatever else. It was scary. It IS scary. It was and IS sad. For ME. Don’t project onto him, Emily. But honor your feelings. And keep massaging breast. Get it out. Honor it. Allow yourself to feel. REST. RECEIVE. ALLOW. exhale. He’s home. He’s here. Trust. But take care of yourself. Say NO to visitors or whatever is taking me OUT of my body. Allow yourself to be in your home with your kiddos and husband without anyone else. Allow people to bring you food and help with Conner.  This is so hard for me. Yet so beautiful when I accept it.

Several days later after many naps, and “no’s” and “yes’s”, lots of water and hot showers, my body starts telling me Thank you. It starts telling me that I’m operating from a more balanced place. Alignment. Balance. Heart, spirit, body, mind.

The body speaks. Whether we are listening or not.