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I don’t have much to say today except that I felt unwell enough this morning that I decided to pause for a moment and listen to my body. Now, I didn’t want to listen to my body. What I wanted was to get up and force myself into the ice bath and perform all of the other practices that I have been doing that help me feel better and, as I am finding out, are also things I partly rely on to convince myself that I have what it takes to get through the day. At times like these, I am quite thankful for my longstanding and ongoing intention that goes like this: I step out of reactivity and allow myself to accept and feel what is in my body. I embrace what is present. That intention got my attention this morning because I could see and feel that I was being gripped by some anxiety and internal criticism about breaking my ice bath streak. “You’re weak. If you skip today, you’ll start skipping more and more. You’re not that sick. This will make you stronger. Yeah, I know that the research says it is a bad idea to get into cold water when you’re sick, but you’re stronger than that. Prove them wrong. What will such-and-such think?” And so on. Stepping back, listening to, and visualizing the critic, I realized that the critic had the face, and look, and tone of a 12-year-old boy who was trying to prove himself to others. I had a bit of a loving and good-hearted chuckle. Because while a part of me might still be 12, that part is loved and cared for by a wise 46 year old father who has been through hell and back with his family for almost a decade and is here to tell the story and share his life with the world. That man is strong and kind and wise and full of delight and playfulness. So, I gave the 12 year old some love and a hug. In my eyes, he could see that all is well: Nothing to prove. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Noone to become. He quieted down and relaxed and looked up at me with gratitude, imbued with his father’s strength. By listening to my body this morning, stepping out of the reactive urge to “just do it” even though my body was telling me, “Hey. I need to chat with you!” I heard a deeper wisdom and accepted the challenge to do that which was actually much more difficult than getting into the ice. What required the most will power, the most strength, the most wisdom this morning was choosing to listen to the wisdom of the body and to take a day to rest. So, I did. Gentle warrior wisdom. Deciding what to do was less of choosing this/that like an on-off switch and much more like I had my hand on a dimmer knob and was experimenting with it, turning it this way and that, noticing what the mix of sensations, thoughts, and beliefs felt like until I found just the right spot for the moment. That felt good. I am becoming more like a dimmer knob than an on-off switch. That feels quite profound — the feeling of being with life as it is, welcoming the unwelcome, listening, responding, waiting, and then acting in honor of the wisdom I have received. Being with life and adjusting to its flow. Less either/or. More both/and. Less separating. More mixing. Less simplifying. More generalizing. Less categorizing. More conceptualizing. Less closing. More opening. Less deciding. More discovering. Less controlling. More flowing. Less taking. More giving. Less owning. More stewarding. Less holding. More releasing. Less forcing. More allowing. Less isolating. More relating. Less judging. More understanding. Less powering through. More considering the way. Less thinking and doing. More feeling and being. Less reacting. More responding. Less fighting. More peacemaking. Less like an on-off switch. More like a dimmer knob. Peace.