When I went to bed last night I was in a bad mood, completely frustrated about everything. This sucks, that sucks–even my thinking sucks, I thought. Ick. My inner critic really can be relentless sometimes–so loud–such a bastard. Thankfully, a good night’s rest helped hush him up. This morning, after I scarfed down a decent breakfast and two cups of coffee, I felt much better.

Today itself–Labor Day–has gone well. For one thing, I took time to read. I love reading. For another thing, I washed the sheets on my bed, something I haven’t done in–well–months. Then I washed myself, something I haven’t done in–well–days. And that’s been it–just a simple day during which I took time to clean up a few things and get this and that in back in order.

A reset.

I suppose this is what sleep is–a reset–a basic cleaning-up of daily crap and emotions. The brain’s way of saying, let’s put this here and that there, and let’s throw this away. Of course, I’m grateful for this. I’m glad my attitude today has been better than my attitude last night. It’s nice to NOT want to put a pencil in the eye of everyone you come into contact with. That being said, I’m thinking more and more that my difficult thoughts and emotions are there for a reason, that they have something important to communicate to me, something I should LISTEN to.

I know I’ve shoved a lot down over the years. Something will upset me–like, someone will cross a boundary, let’s say–or my body will experience physical pain, and I’ll just “be nice,” ignore the problem, or otherwise grin and bear it. Having used this strategy consistently for the better part of three decades, I do NOT recommend it. Because it’s not the truth. THE TRUTH is that I’m frustrated, angry, and pissed off about a lot of things. Likewise, my body is stressed out, upset, and in pain in a number of places. And whereas my default response is to take a pill and keep on plugging, I’m TRYING to pay more attention and decipher the messages my body and soul are sending me.

This, I think, is one of the benefits to being tired or sick–it gives all the stuff you’ve shoved down a chance to rise to the surface. And not that I want to run around emotionally vomiting on everyone I come in contact with, but I DO want to start honoring and giving voice to all those emotions that I’ve been ignoring for so long. For me this looks like listening to my gut and DOING something about it. For example, recently I had an experience with someone who was being passive aggressive (that is to say, aggressive), despite the fact that they said they weren’t. “No, I’m not upset,” they said. But clearly they were–so I confronted them. “I need you to be direct if you have a problem with me,” I said. And y’all, it was the weirdest thing. The words were coming out of my mouth, but it was like someone else–or at least another part of me– was saying them. I assume this odd sensation is because I’m so used to hearing myself “be nice.”

In addition to listening to my gut and DOING something about it, honoring myself also looks like listening to my body and TAKING CARE of it. For me this means that when my body hurts, I’m trying to not immediately shut it down, but rather go inside and try to give space for the pain to exist. Likewise, I’m trying to go inside and decipher the messages my body is sending me. Having lately tried a few “go inside” exercises that I picked up in a book about illness and healing–and having had good results–I’m convinced that our bodies are not only alive, but also intelligent, conscious, and capable of healing.

This idea–that my mind, body, and emotions are on my side, that we’re all in this together–has been a tough one for me to come around to. That being said, I like it a lot better than the opposite idea, the idea that my mind, body, and emotions are somehow “bad” or against me, something for me to suppress, repress, or overcome. Because I truly do believe there is wisdom here, not just deep down inside me, but throughout me–wisdom that is here to help, guide, and protect me. So I’m trying to listen to myself–I’m trying to finally listen to myself–to let all parts of me be heard.