Sick Days Need Nail Polish

She told me earlier that she wasn’t sick anymore, that her fever was downstairs and we were in her room.

I nodded soaking in her confidence.

Receiving phrases that I say regularly like trust your body, especially to two year olds.

Then we did the next obvious thing.

Pedicures.

She stretched her back to reach the color changing water below with her feet.

Relaxation is a contagion.

The body expanding to take more room.

Back covering knees.

Calves interlaced with calves.

Small hand reaching to twirl my hair in between her fingers.

Watching almost meditatively.

At no risk of falling asleep.

How do you care for yourself?

How do body’s replenish?

What do we need when we’re sick.

Roomy environments.

Quiet stillness.

Reminders to take time, like the minutes toes need to dry.

Soft voices to speak to us, or just be soundless.

Permission to trust ourselves.

Questions that resonate with what our bodies are telling us feels comforting.

Leg made caves.

Flowers to ground our tired eyes when our vision goes blurry.

Company.

Solitude.

Things to look forward to.

Processes that feel healthy now.

Nail polish brushes.

Shiny lotion covered muscles.

Full body hugs.

Hair to twirl.

Voices other than our own.

Slow, slow days that end with us fast asleep.

Unaware how quickly it went.

Dreams like pillows calling us towards them, in tones that make us think of playgrounds and sunshine and popsicle smiles.

Bites of egg that feel that good today.

Writer. Thinker. Facilitator. Advocate. Invested in accountability for power based violence, creative initiatives, and meaningful, nuanced dialoguing.

Writer. Thinker. Facilitator. Advocate. Invested in accountability for power based violence, creative initiatives, and meaningful, nuanced dialoguing.