Confession: I have always secretly kind of enjoyed being sick. Not the symptoms, of course. But the permission.
Permission to stop. Permission to rest. Permission to accept help and take good care of myself and say no to things.
This week I developed the mother of all sinus infections. And even though I felt so horrible that I cried a time or two (or six), even though it is tricky coordinating Collin's care when I'm out of commission, I still felt that old familiar relief because I knew that nothing would be required of me until I felt better.
So, I gave myself permission to knit, doze, watch Christmas movies, and read. I stayed in my sweatpants and on the couch. And as I started to feel better physically, I noticed that I was feeling better mentally and emotionally, too.
Maybe my one of my New Years resolutions should be to give myself the gift of permission sometimes when I don't have a headache or a hacking cough. It's a thought.