hopeful beirut

When the body speaks

I am stuck in a body whose permanent revolt is turned inwards, spewing acid all the way from the esophagus to the stomach. Gastritis the revenge, is back to destroy what little tranquility is left. Sleep, as elusive as ever, teases me with the sweet surrender of dreams that have long been forgotton...

As new beginnings unfold and fresh opportunities await, shadows of an unfulfilled soul lurk nearby, refusing to be still. Unless they are resolved, they will linger and pester and fester and turn into a malignant growth. They will haunt me and absorb my energy, my faith, my hope, my life. They will plunge me in despair.

Oh body of mine, what tale do you tell, of a woman who's in, well over her head? Or is your prodding and nausea a stark reminder of being left behind, untended, while other things were pursued?

When the body speaks, even the mind will be silenced to listen to the secrets it spills, for it is the stress-ometer, it alone can reveal what we often do not want to admit, what we had ignored, what we thought would go away. The pain is not painful but a chance to fix things, to become a better person.

You have my attention now, I am listening, but please, speak softly... whisper, what's going on?

posted by hopeful beirut @ 16:08