My Body Knows Something I Don't
My body seems to know something I don’t. I’m trying to listen.
8/18/20261 min read
Since I returned home after being away for six weeks, my body has felt increasingly foreign to me.
I’ve been craving fresh, whole foods, but more than anything, fresh juice—namely celery and carrot juices.
That may not sound particularly remarkable, except that I haven’t juiced anything in years, and I almost never drink juice. It’s not really my thing.
Until last week. Now, it feels like a magic elixir.
When I close my eyes, I see the celery plant—stalks reaching toward the sun, pushing and pulling the light, giving and receiving at once, energy moving into, out of, and through its veins.
I see carrots, vibrantly orange, stretching down into the earth.
As above, so below.
Somehow, it feels like my body wants to align with that.
The change isn’t limited to food.
Weightlifting has been one of my primary forms of exercise for years, and suddenly it feels like something I can barely get through. My body seems to be asking for different kinds of movement, although I don’t yet know what those are.
I’ve been experimenting with dance classes and other ways of moving, while my injured knee creates some limitations. I’m trying to listen—to notice what my body wants rather than deciding what I think it should want.
I am healthy. I’m not trying to be healthier. I’m not following a plan or attempting to change anything. If anything, I feel like I’m observing something happening within me that I don’t entirely understand and learning to move with it.
My internal shift feels very physical this time. It feels like I’m preparing —or better yet, being prepared.
For what? Maybe nothing.
Time will tell.