I could hardly stand up from my chair. The pain came out of nowhere, it seemed. No injury. No tweaking. No unusual activity. Just shooting pain down the back of my right leg.
I’ve learned to pay attention to pain. I’ve learned that whenever my body surprises me with pain, it is sending me a message.
And this pain was severe enough that I knew my body was saying: Danger. Watch out. If you go that direction, you could get hurt. But I also felt like I had to go that direction. This was all happening in the midst of our move. I literally needed to get out of bed and walk down the stairs and open the door to the movers. And walking down the stairs alone felt like an excruciating rebuke.
I walked down the stairs. And over the days that followed, as the pain slowly subsided, I reminded myself that I can receive love and release myself to that same love. I reminded myself of all the things I’ve learned:
That healing gets in the way of performance and production, and that’s okay.
That a healed me is good, even if it means slowing down.
That it is safe to heal and to take the time to heal.
It’s the end of the summer, and the end of our initial move. And I still get twinges of that pain now and then, like a reminder, a signal flare, bringing me back to the healing that comes in believing I am not worthy or loved due to my performance but rather I am beloved. So I am thankful for the twinges and the disruptions, because they bring me back to a deeper truth.
More with Amy Julia:
Subscribe to my newsletter to receive regular updates and news. You can also follow me on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, and YouTube, and you can subscribe to my Love Is Stronger Than Fear podcast on your favorite podcast platform.