Five weeks ago, I fainted after donating blood and broke a bone on my left foot; the third metatarsal.  When I was waiting in the ER for the final say, I kept saying to myself, “please, please, please, don’t let it be broken.”  The answer didn’t go my way. As a result, I was hopping around on a boot and crutches.

While having limited mobility for about four days — confined to my work desk and chair (got a lot of work done though), served by my husband (Nice! It just didn’t last) — I also did some reflecting.  I wish I didn’t have to go through what I had to, to come to this place of understanding. Sometimes, I just have to, for my body to get my attention.

This body of mine (and yours too), is the smartest healer in the whole Universe. “We just need to help it heal with the right nutrition.” I remember my grandmother used to murmur that sentence when I watched her prepare some concoction to heal her own body.  This body, is also the wisest being that whispers something to me, gives me signals or warnings, when I’m not taking care of it, when I’m not respecting it.

I have been donating blood for the last 13 years, three to four times a year, I should know the drill well. That morning, I was the last person in the mobile unit and the unit was getting ready to move to another location.  I usually take a few minutes to relax and drink a glass of water after my blood was drawn.  This time, I stood up and got off the table too quickly.  I felt some pins and needles around my neck (warning #1), which was unusual, and I thought to myself, “This is weird, never felt this way before.” I walked off the bus, and I felt a little light-headed (warning #2). “Maybe I should go back up to the bus and sit for a while.”  I didn’t. “Home is right across the street, I’ll sit as soon as I get home,” I said to myself. I crossed the street, entered our building, climbed the stairs, and the light-headedness returned (warning #3).  Again, I said to myself, “Sit down on the stairs for a while, get your energy back.” Yet again, my stubbornness contradicted my wiser self.

I entered the apartment, took off my jacket and shoes, walked into the kitchen and said to my husband, ”Why am I so dizzy?”  Next thing I knew I was on the floor hearing my husband calling my name. I fainted and hit my left foot hard on the kitchen counter as I went down.  Thus, the boot and crutches.  If only I listened to the warnings my body was sending to me, to slow down, this wouldn’t have happened. There were three warnings ignored, so the body decided to get dramatic to get my attention.  That was my storm.

I had to contemplate on the experience.  This was certainly not the first time I received a warning from my own being, but this one had quite a dramatic result in the end.  This incident doesn’t only inspire me to now listen better to my wise body, but it also makes me look to my feet from a different point of view.  My feet are the farthest-away body parts from my eyes, the least thought of or looked at on a daily basis.  Yet, they support my body, take me places, run with me … the list of their functions is endless. Having one foot with minimum mobility has made me dependent on someone else for a while.  I wasn’t as quick on my feet. What a revelation that was for me.  My feet need some tender-loving-care too, just as all the parts of my being.  Listening is certainly the one skill I cannot ignore.  Not just when I communicate with others, but also when I do with myself.

What have you learned so far from your body? The wisdom it shares or the warning it conveys. Share your thoughts …

#wisebody #lifewarning #listenwelltoyourbody #bodytalk #listeningskill #livingyourinspiredlife #ingemaskun