For some reason,
that night I decided I wanted to sleep deeply.
I felt like I hadn’t been sleeping well lately.
My sleep had been light—
the kind where thoughts wake you up.
For the first time in a while,
I played one of those “relaxing sleep” music tracks on YouTube
that I used to listen to.
And I tried to sleep without thinking about anything.
When I woke up,
I thought,
“That was short… but I feel like I actually slept well.”
And then I noticed something.
My right shoulder felt soft.
Usually, even before I fully wake up,
I think,
“Ah, my shoulder hurts again today.”
But that morning,
I thought,
“It doesn’t hurt.”
I felt grateful to my body.
That same day,
I was listening to a Louise Hay affirmation,
and something quietly clicked.
I think I had been going in circles in my head.
Trying to become something.
Trying to grasp something.
Carrying those heavy thoughts through the day,
and then bringing them straight into bed with me.
Even though, really,
I want to feel that moment when I lie down—
that release, that softness,
that simple feeling of, “this feels nice.”
But instead,
my attention had been pulled toward
anxiety and restlessness in my mind.
Sleep,
is actually such a full, nourishing time.
And yet,
I wasn’t really allowing myself to feel it.
I was just staying with those thoughts,
going around in circles.
No wonder my body felt tired.
The next morning,
I spent time doing small, simple tasks,
imagining the kind of life I want to live.
On my way to buy groceries around noon,
I suddenly realized something.
I hadn’t been thinking about my shoulder at all.
The moment I noticed it,
I could feel it a little again.
But while I was cooking,
while I was eating,
it faded away once more.
Pain is strange.
When it’s there,
it feels so overwhelming—
like something seriously wrong.
And yet,
when I look back,
there are actually many moments when I’m not feeling it at all.
Am I noticing it because it hurts?
Or does it hurt because I’m noticing it?
Maybe—
when we keep thinking,
“It hurts, it hurts,”
we’re living in a way
that keeps checking for the pain.
Maybe we’re constantly directing our attention
toward feeling it.
Of course,
when it really hurts,
it doesn’t feel that simple.
But still—
maybe
that’s one part of it.