Walking along the frozen aisles of the local grocery store, I passed by the frozen vegetables and had an incredibly strong impulse when I saw the brussels sprouts. I absolutely had to have them. It made no sense, I don't think I had ever made them in my life, I barely remember even eating them. Once they were in my cart I had a second impulse that was much more visceral. I could taste how good they would be with a horseradish mustard. Was that even a thing? On a mission I backtracked to the condiment aisle where the object of my affection was found.
Yes, they were as delicious as I imagined them to be and I ate them nearly every day for the first trimester of my pregnancy. That first day I purchased the sprouts, the thought that I was pregnant entered my mind, but I didn't think it was possible. I was charting my cycle and it didn't make sense. But, my body knew exactly what it needed. Some call it a craving - and yes - I did have those, but this was more of a demand. I'm glad I listened. The interesting thing is that once I got past the 1st trimester, I hated every vegetable. They might look good on the plate, smell good even, but the minute they touched my lips I was ready to vomit. Again, it made no sense because according to all the experts, vegetables are necessary for a healthy diet - pregnant or not. My body was like, "Ah hell no." Much to my dismay - because I love vegetables - I listened. My pregnancy produced the most miraculous, healthy baby boy. I got to thinking about the demands my body made on me all those years ago during my walk this morning. Nearing the park by my house, I became aware of my body and what it was doing. I had been tapping my collarbone for I don't know how long. It may have started as soon as I walked out my door. This is an area that when tapped on, reduces stress and worry. My body knew what I needed before I was even consciously aware that I needed it and even took action. Often times I believe I know better than my body, especially when it is craving ice cream while I am trying to eat healthier or when it wants to rest when I think it should go running instead. The more I resist what my body is telling me, the more I resent it, the more I disconnect from it. The more I disconnect from it, the harder pretty much everything gets. Including writing. My body has been telling me for quite some time that it doesn't want long writing stretches. It likes to write no more than 40 minutes a day. I have begun honoring that. It's supremely uncomfortable. Even writing about it now has me itchy; like squirming in my seat, I can't believe I am writing that, itchy. I know my body's wisdom is greater than my own. I am still learning to trust that wisdom, but the only way to get to that trust is by trusting. So, slowly but surely, 40 minutes a day, my book is coming to light. Thank you body.
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AuthorMelinda Lee is a mom of two adolescent boys, a devout student of all things spiritual, a recovering perfectionist, and immensely fascinated with achieving the unachievable. Currently writing a memoir about hugging strangers. Archives
February 2023
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