This past week I’ve had the flu. At first, I was pissed off. “I got a flu jab!”, I thought, full of grim and growls.
Then I realized that no matter how I feel, I can always play. I thought back to what it was like to be ill when I was a kid. I remembered that I declared my bed as a cave at one time, a sacred space where everything was possible.
That worked for me!
I curled up in my cave and ate my favorite candy, I watched funny movies on Netflix and giggled myself silly, I doodled a lot, I re-read a favorite book (until I lost my kindle, it is somewhere near here, darn it!) and I smiled tons.
I still felt miserable, my body hurt, my lungs got sick of coughing, but that wasn’t the prevailing thought. I played. I cared for my body, made it heal at lightning speed. A week later, I am almost better (I made soup today, major accomplishment!) and ready to rock and roll, even from the sanctity of my bed, I can do that, you know!