I read in a tweet that Jeff Goins encouraged us at Blissdom to write the tough stuff. The stuff that isn’t easy to say and doesn’t come out in pleasantries. The stuff that scares us a little to admit.
See – beneath my high-energy, bright smile, and with-it appearance I have a broken body. Usually I can manage. Sometimes it catches up to me. And this week it caught up to me big time. The stress of having a baby, combined with the added pressure of working on my book deal, meant that my back was already pushed to the limits.
Then came Blissdom. The conference I was so looking forward to this year as my one chance to take a break this spring before my book deadlines force me into hibernation. And my body. just. broke.
I really only made it to half of the conference. Friends on twitter who saw me mention going home said things like, “Wow! I didn’t even realize you were here!” I spent two nights in bed in pain watching the tweet stream share the connections being made, the fun being had, and the inspiration being absorbed. I felt like a ghost – there but not there. You won’t see me in the videos. The recap posts. The party nights. The picture-tagging-and-un-tagging-frenzy.
I didn’t realize until Saturday night when I finally limped into a massage room and STOPPED how bad I really had let myself get. I cried on the table as my therapist helped my body feel again. Move again. Breathe again.
I cried this morning as my husband held me and we talked about the trip. He said, “I’m sorry you wasted your time driving all the way out there.”
And I said, “I didn’t! The half of what I got would was totally worth it!” And it was.
And as I started spilling out moment after moment of why this weekend was worth every broken breathe I realize that it wasn’t about the parties I missed or the special events. While lavish and amazing and something that does set Blissdom apart – what made the trip worthwhile were the people. THE FRIENDS.
The amazing speakers who gave of themselves wholeheartedly. The community leaders who were so present. The writers at Blissfully Domestic who I am so blessed to work with.
The friends who text-messaged me to see how I was. Who asked eachother about me in the halls and stopped my sister to see if I was ok. Who are Skyping me even now – ping, ping, ping – to make sure I’m home safely. The ones who will be commenting to say that they love me, or emailing me to let me know they read this and are thinking of me.
It’s easy to let yourself get caught up in the urgent. But I have a body that breaks far sooner than my brain and desire and ideas and energy does. And I have to learn to respect that more and accept that more readily. I love you guys for reminding me this weekend that it is OK to admit that. To acknowledge that fact.
My body burns out before my inner fire does. I have to take care of it or I literally cannot function. It sucks. It’s my shameful secret that I wish I were stronger. I pretend to be stronger than I really am like I pretend to be taller than I really am.
It only works for so long.
And apparently that is ok. That? That acceptance? That is bliss. Thank you guys. I love you.
P.S. The plan is to squeeze our budget a little tighter and make sure I’m seeing the massage therapist at lease once a month. It makes such a difference in my health and strength. Thanks for asking – yet another reason why I love you.