When something hurts, most of us immediately ask one question:
**”How do I make this stop?”**
It’s a completely understandable response.
Pain isn’t pleasant.
Fatigue isn’t pleasant.
Illness isn’t pleasant.
Of course we want relief.
But over the years, I’ve started asking a different question.
Instead of asking my body how to make the symptoms disappear, I ask it:
**”What are you trying to tell me?”**
It sounds simple.
Almost too simple.
Yet it’s a conversation most of us have never had.
We spend our lives living inside our bodies, but very few of us ever develop a relationship with them.
We manage them.
We criticize them.
We push them.
We ignore them.
But we rarely listen.
One of my favorite practices is incredibly gentle.
Find a quiet place where you won’t be interrupted.
Close your eyes.
Take a few slow breaths and imagine yourself somewhere you feel completely safe.
Then, in your mind, invite your body into the room.
Not as something separate from you.
As a partner.
As something worthy of your attention.
Then simply ask:
*”What have you been trying to tell me?”*
Don’t force an answer.
Don’t analyze.
Just listen.
You might be surprised by what comes up.
Then ask another question.
*”What do you need from me in order to feel supported?”*
Again, don’t worry if the answer doesn’t come immediately.
Sometimes it’s a feeling.
Sometimes it’s an image.
Sometimes it’s a word.
Sometimes it’s something incredibly practical.
Maybe your body asks for more rest.
Maybe it asks for movement.
Maybe it asks for nourishment.
Maybe it asks for quiet.
Maybe it asks you to slow down.
Whatever arises, become curious rather than judgmental.
Then ask one final question:
**”What would that look like in my everyday life?”**
Because healing doesn’t happen through beautiful ideas alone.
It happens through the small choices we make every day.
Sometimes the answer isn’t dramatic.
Sometimes it’s incredibly ordinary.
Going to bed earlier.
Taking a walk.
Eating differently.
Spending more time outside.
Creating space to breathe.
Listening instead of pushing.
We often assume healing has to be complicated.
But I’ve found that our bodies usually communicate with remarkable clarity when we give them permission.
The difficult part isn’t that our bodies aren’t speaking.
It’s that we’re rarely still long enough to hear them.
Your body has been with you through every chapter of your life.
It has carried your stress.
Your joy.
Your heartbreak.
Your victories.
Your grief.
Your healing.
What if, instead of treating it like something to control...
You started treating it like a trusted guide?
You might discover that it’s been trying to help you all along.
You simply hadn’t paused long enough to ask.
💜 Abi