When Your Body Guides You

When Your Body Guides You

During the COVID-19 lockdown, I was fortunate enough to be living in a small villa with a large garden that became my sanctuary. It inspired me to create different shaded areas where I could enjoy the garden from different corners and to plant herbs and vegetables. This was important to me, especially because I had five cats at the time and Dubai is far too hot to enjoy the outdoors for much of the year. But I did it, and my friends and I enjoyed the garden almost all year round.

Whenever a newcomer arrived, one of my close friends would joke, “Why do you not take us on the botanical tour?” And it really was like a tour. There was a vegetable section, an herb section, a reading corner, a central courtyard, and a secret garden in the backyard. That house inspired me to spend more time outdoors. During the stay-at-home period, I also started live Instagram broadcasts that I called Unbox Coffee Break.

Followers from around the world joined me, and we enjoyed a casual chat while having our coffee or tea. Those who were living in flats or high-rise buildings urged me to keep broadcasting from the garden. They would ask me to move outdoors. We all breathed the outdoors together. It was a wonderful communal reprieve.

One More Thing

Gardening became my focus during that time, perhaps even my coping mechanism, and I became overenthusiastic. At the end of a heavy day of gardening, my cousin Nick, who was helping me, asked me to stop. I said, “No, one more thing.” I tried to pull out a dead root and yanked it too hard. It came out easily and flung me backward. I bounced three times on my bottom along a brick path before landing on my side, with my right arm over a brick.

My wrist broke in several places, and I was in denial. I continued using cold compresses and massaging it, avoiding the overcrowded hospital for fear of catching the virus. I spent the following days contemplating why this had happened. I could not do much else.

What My Wrist Remembered

Being confined to bed gave me time to reflect. I placed my other hand over the break and immediately went into a deep meditation. To my surprise, I recalled a memory from when I was about seven years old. During a lunch break, someone ran straight into my right arm, breaking my wrist in several places. I remembered being rushed to the hospital and how urgently the surgeon took me into the operating room. The break had nearly pierced my arm and was about to come through the skin.

As I relived this memory, something became clear to me. My wrist had carried the energy of anger since childhood. No one had been held accountable for my injury. No one had apologized. No one had acknowledged what had happened, as though it were simply a normal part of being a young student at school.

Although my teachers were supportive and took me aside during exams so I could answer verbally while they wrote down my answers, the twinge of not receiving acknowledgment was still there.

Cellular memory can last a long time, even when you think you have moved on. Your body has archives separate from your conscious memory, with its own mechanics and energy. That part of my body was still angry.

I imagined communicating with it. I calmed it down, acknowledged the hurt, and apologized to it. Gradually, the anger subsided, and so did my fear of going to the hospital.

As soon as I walked in, the doctor said, “Of course it is broken. Can you not see that your arm is deformed?” “I was in denial,” I replied. The X-ray revealed that the break was in exactly the same place as when I was a child.

Listening Became a Practice

And the lesson? Listen to your body. Thank it. Bless it. Tune into it and sense what it wants. It knows before you do. Sometimes, even an old wound requires emotional healing. A tether can hold back a balloon.
My connection with my body became deeper. I listened to my body when it wanted to rest, relax, or work. I listened when a project I had started did not feel right. It began speaking louder, and I could no longer ignore what it was communicating.

My health and my life have improved as a result. I now have an extra sensor guiding me to recalibrate my course. Of course, my cats are still there. There are now three surviving cats who jump onto my desk and sit on my keyboard when it is time to wrap up the day. They also jump over me to wake me if I ever sleep beyond the permitted fifteen minutes to half an hour—of course, as decided by them.

The signs are there to guide us, and the closest guide is our physical body. Look after it and support it, and it will support your life in ways you will be grateful for.

Sahar Huneidi Palmer is an intuitive life mentor, a bestselling author, and the host of Unbox The Podcast, supporting leaders and creators in cultivating alignment, coherence, and strategic brand clarity. She also writes cultural and literary reviews, bringing a reflective lens to identity, leadership, and the architecture of a meaningful life.

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