My Pocket of Tools: Learning to Listen to My Body

For a long time, I thought being “healthy” meant being consistent.

Exercise regularly. Eat the right foods. Get enough sleep. Drink enough water. Manage your stress.

And there is absolutely value in consistency.

But living with chronic illness has taught me that taking care of myself isn’t always consistent, and that’s actually the point.

What helps me on Monday may be exactly what I don’t need on Thursday.

I’ve had to learn my body in a way I never expected to.

I check in with it constantly. Not in a fearful way, but almost like an ongoing conversation:

How are we doing today? What do you need?

Some days, my body wants to move

Some mornings my body says, Let’s walk.

Another day, walking sounds awful but Pilates feels good. Sometimes I want yoga and a long stretch. Other days I feel strong and light resistance training feels exactly right.

And then there are days when my body says no to all of it.

No walking. No Pilates. No yoga. Definitely no weights.

Apparently, what we need today is Tribal or Afro beats and a dance routine in the living room.

And I’ve learned to listen to that too.

Because movement doesn’t always have to be about exercise. Sometimes my body wants to stretch and strengthen. Sometimes it wants fresh air and a long walk. And sometimes it just wants music, rhythm and the freedom to move without worrying about whether it “counts” as a workout.

Those days have taught me something too: taking care of my body isn’t only about managing symptoms or preventing a flare. There’s room for joy in there as well.

And then there are the crunchy days

You know that feeling when everything just feels stiff, tight and slightly creaky?

Those are my crunchy days.

On those days, my body might want heat, a massage or some gentle stretching.

But sometimes I feel almost inflamed from the inside out, and suddenly I want the opposite, a cool shower, cool air and less stimulation.

I’ve learned not to assume I know the answer before I ask the question.

Food has become part of the conversation too

There are days when I can’t seem to get enough fruit or vegetables. Sometimes I want certain proteins or foods rich in B vitamins. Sometimes it’s peppermint tea.

Sometimes it’s cold pasta.

And sometimes it’s a sweet treat after a meal simply because that sounds really good.

I’ve become less interested in making every choice look like “perfect wellness” and more interested in noticing how I actually feel.

Instead of immediately judging a craving or deciding whether something is “good” or “bad,” I try to get curious.

What am I actually asking for?

Am I hungry? Tired? Depleted? Do I want something fresh? Something substantial? Something comforting? Something pleasurable?

There can be useful information in those questions.

Sometimes what I need isn’t physical at all

Sometimes my body is asking me to sleep.

Sometimes I need an afternoon nap without negotiating with myself about whether I’ve “earned” it.

Sometimes I need to say what I’m feeling instead of swallowing it.

Sometimes I need to cry, talk, laugh, be alone, get outside, cancel something or simply have a quieter day.

That has probably been one of the harder lessons.

Because we’re often encouraged to override ourselves.

Push through.

Stay productive.

Stick to the plan.

Get the workout in.

Be disciplined.

But when you live with a body that can very quickly tell you when you’ve done too much, you start learning that listening isn’t laziness.

It’s information.

My pocket isn’t a prescription

I call these things my “pocket of tools” because there isn’t one tool I reach for every time.

Movement is in there. Rest is in there. Nourishing food and treats are both in there. Heat and cold. Massage. Homeopathy. Nervous system support. Sleep. Fresh air. Music. Dancing. Connection. Quiet. Emotional expression.

And what’s in my pocket will probably continue to change.

These aren’t recommendations for what someone else living with chronic illness should do. They’re simply the things I’ve gathered over years of learning myself.

Your pocket might look completely different.

In fact, I think that’s the point.

There is so much information telling us what we should eat, how we should exercise, how many steps we should take, what our morning routine should look like and what we need to eliminate from our lives.

Sometimes I think we become so busy listening to everyone else that we stop hearing ourselves.

Living with chronic illness has taught me to come back to one very simple question:

What does my body need today?

Not what did it need yesterday.

Not what should it need.

Not what somebody on Instagram says it needs.

Today.

I don’t always get the answer right. Sometimes I realize after the fact that I pushed too hard or didn’t rest soon enough. I’m still learning.

But I’ve become much better at hearing the whispers before my body has to shout.

And perhaps that is the biggest tool I’ve put in my pocket.

Not Pilates.

Not nutrition.

Not homeopathy.

Not naps, massage, dancing or peppermint tea.

Listening.