It starts in my neck, then spreads to that place between my shoulder blades where it settles.
Foam rolling. Yoga. Acupuncture. Chiropractic.
All are helpful.
None completely rids me of that knot.
Over the years I’ve learned that tightness is a signal, a signal I ignored for too long.
I don't ignore it anymore.
It's the signal to stop. For a little while.
Not a California roll through the intersection because all sides are clear and sure, I can squeeze a few more tasks into my day. Traffic is light, right?
No.
I need to make a full, hard stop.
Turn off the ignition, recline the seat, simply be.
Eyes closed. Mind softens.
Breathing in and out through my nose, feeling my belly expand and contract, one breath at a time.
In. Out.
The most fundamental mechanism of being alive.
I forget that 99% of the time. Too often, I forget that everything I do is a choice.
A choice I get to make.
I'm way better at this than I used to be. And I still have so much to learn.
One thing I have learned and no longer push aside because I'm wired to keep going:
how to respect the stop.
To honor and celebrate everything I'm doing, including when I'm doing nothing at all.
Because when I feel that knot between my shoulder blades throat-punching me?
It's a reminder to return to this one simple truth:
The stop is as much a part of the journey as the progress.
