Listening to Your Body: The First Act of Sovereignty
There comes a moment for every spoon on the path —often after the diagnosis, the grief, the gaslighting — when you stop. Stop trying to force your body into old rhythms, stop trying to give the world what it demands; you stop, and begin to listen.
It is a quiet yet profound shift.
Sure, it may begin in exhaustion, when you’ve used your last spoon, and nothing else had worked. Maybe born in desperation, when all the planning and pushing through only deepened the spiral into flare. Or, it may arrive gently, a quiet whisper in the dark: “Please! No more! Won’t someone just ask me what I need for once?”
And you? You heard it — you are the voice there to ask what it wants. That voice? It’s your body — and it has been waiting a long time for you to listen.
Why Listening is So Hard
From a young age, our culture trains us — and particularly women — to override our body’s signals:
Ignore that fatigue; dismiss the ache; numb the hunger.
Rest, in this world we live in, is earned; discomfort is to be powered through; sensitivity is a flaw. Or so we’re told.
And, sadly, we learn not to ask, “What do I need right now?” Asking instead, “What is expected of me now, and how can I deliver? So what if I’m exhausted…”
This conditioning becomes dangerous — in fact, it can in some instances (possibly many!) be connected to developing a chronic illness, or at least making it worse. And if you already have a chronic illness, it’s very dangerous — because our body is not optional. It will not be ignored forever.
To ask your body what it needs — and to honor the answer — is revolutionary. It isn’t weakness. It’s not indulgence. It’s not giving up for yourself.
It’s showing up.
It is an act of sovereignty.
Listening to your body is choosing to become an ally to yourself, rather than a relentless commanders. It’s acknowledging the deep truth that your body is not a malfunctioning machine in need of fixing, but a living gift to be honored. And listening when society has conditioned you otherwise? That is a genuine act of true creation: Learning to hear your own yes and no, from the inside out — and honoring it.
Your Body as Your Guide
Your body, even when it seems to be misbehaving, isn’t your enemy. It may have betrayed your plans, but it’s not here to ruin your life. It is here to protect you. To slow you. To forge a deeper way of being.
While it may feel cruel at first, eventually you may find it begins to feel sacred. I know that sounds like a lot — it can be hard to imagine this to be true. But there is a deep and ancient truth in this.
Because your body remembers things your mind has forgotten:
Your Body as Your Guide
Your body, even when it seems to be misbehaving, isn’t your enemy. It may have betrayed your plans, but it’s not here to ruin your life. It is here to protect you. To slow you. To forge a deeper way of being.
While it may feel cruel at first, eventually you may find it begins to feel sacred. I know that sounds like a lot — it can be hard to imagine this to be true. But there is a deep and ancient truth in this.
Because your body remembers things your mind has forgotten:
It doesn’t speak in the language of logic or pressure. It speaks in pulse and ache and craving and stillness.
To become fluent in that language is to step into a deeper self-knowing than the world will ever teach you.
The Courage to Trust Yourself
Listening requires trust. Not in a system. Not in a protocol. But in yourself.
Trust that when your body says, “I need rest,” that rest is not a failure. Trust that when your body says, “I need movement,” it is not betraying your limits. Trust that when your body says, “I need beauty, silence, space,” those things aren’t luxuries — they are medicine.
Listening is How the Path Opens
This is where a wise Spoon Detective can become something more. This is where the clues you’ve gathered along the way begin to form a map.
Because listening doesn’t just help you survive the day. It begins to show you how to live it differently.
This is the beginning of curation: the sacred act of choosing what to spend your energy on, and what to lay down. The art of placing your spoons where they bring joy, meaning, and regeneration. The quest rebellion of crafting a life that fits you, not the mold you were handed.
Listening is how you step fully onto the mythic path. Not just as a survivor, but as a seeker. A curator. A Sovereign.
A Simple Invitation
I invite you to pause at some point today. Place your hand on your chest, or on your belly — whatever feels natural. Close your eyes, if it feels safe. Then gently ask: “Beloved body, what do you need from me right now?”
Then wait — for as long as it takes. Not for words, necessarily, but for a sensation. A knowing. A subtle pull.
Whatever rises, honor it if you can. Even for five minutes – even just in acknowledgment.
You’d be surprised at how basic it can be: I need a drink of water; I need a nap; I need to put on some music that makes my heart soar.
Don’t be fooled by the simplicity — this is deep medicine! We have just grown so accustomed to tuning out the cries of our body, that we often fail to hear our most basic needs.
This, you brilliant Spoon Detective, is an act of conscious sovereignty. And it is enough — for now.
You are not failing. You are listening. You are learning. You are returning to yourself.
And that is glorious!