I finally crashed at noon on Halloween.
And no wonder. I’d endured weeks of pushing myself both physically and mentally, with no down-time.
Moving house. A demanding job. Performing at gigs. A new fitness regime. A family reunion.
Unable to muster enough strength to reach for a distraction (phone, kindle), unable to even formulate a single coherent thought, I lay motionless on the bed, feeling dreadfully sorry for myself.
Unpacking boxes. Sorting out unwanted items for a car boot sale. Updating my to-do list. My weekend plans were ruined!
But in my stupor I had a stunning revelation.
I was still breathing.
When was I last aware of the fact I breathe?! I have no idea!
With dawning realisation I finally understood that without my knowledge, my body had been looking after me during these last few tough weeks.
It was marvellous – but unsustainable.
I resolved that as soon as I regained my energy, I’d throw away the to-do list.
Now it was time for me to take care of my body.