Your Body Knows
I listen to what my body tells me. The calm in my chest, the tightness in my shoulders — these are wisdom I can trust.
Your body has been carrying information for a long time. It has been speaking in a language you are finally relearning how to hear.
Around safety, your body softens. You can take a full breath without thinking about it. Your shoulders come down without you telling them to. Your stomach unknots. You sleep through the night. You feel more like yourself in someone's presence, not less. You leave a conversation with more energy than you came in with, not less.
Around something that is not right for you, your body tightens. Your breath gets shallow. You feel a low hum of vigilance you can't quite name. You are tired in ways that have nothing to do with how the day went. You think about a small comment for hours. You catch yourself rehearsing what you will say next time. You feel just slightly off the ground.
These signals are not always perfect. The years you walked through can scramble the wiring — so that safety sometimes registers as wrong and the familiar shape of harm sometimes registers as right. Be patient with yourself as you learn to read the signals again. Consider what your body says alongside what you notice over time and what the people who love you reflect back.
Still, the body is wisdom. It has been keeping you alive. Its first job is to keep you alive. When something in you says wait, you are allowed to wait. When something in you says lean in, you are allowed to lean in. You don't have to argue yourself out of either one.
Notice the calm when calm arrives. Notice the unease when unease arrives. You are not making it up. You are listening.