
The body speaks long before the mind is ready to listen.
Tension settles in. Breathing becomes shallow. Sleep gets disrupted. Fatigue shows up quietly at first, then more insistently. By the time I notice, my body has already been trying to tell me the truth for a while.
This reflection is not about fixing the body.
It is about finally listening to it.
When the Body Tries to Get My Attention
The first signals I tend to ignore are tension, shallow breathing, fatigue, and disrupted sleep. Those cues feel manageable at first, easy to push past in the name of getting things done. When I keep going anyway, the signals grow louder. Soreness and stiffness show up, followed by a heaviness that makes staying awake difficult.
One of the clearest moments my body says “enough” is when I cannot keep my eyes open. At that point, willpower no longer works. Scripture reminds me, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit?” (1 Corinthians 6:19). That verse is not a warning. It is a reminder of care.
Author and physician Rachel Naomi Remen once wrote, “The body is the most honest part of us.” My body never lies about what it needs.
What I Was Taught and What I’m Unlearning
Growing up, I learned to push past my body rather than listen to it. Endurance was praised. Rest was secondary. Boundaries were flexible if there was more to accomplish.
That training shows up when I override rest and boundaries to keep going. The body absorbs the cost quietly until it cannot anymore. Psalm 127 reminds us, “In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat; for he grants sleep to those he loves” (Psalm 127:2).
Poet David Whyte observes, “You can only live at the pace of what you can take in.” Listening to the body changes the pace, not the purpose.
Soul Insights
1. The body speaks before the mind admits truth.
Tension and shallow breathing arrive early as signals. Fatigue and sleep disruption follow when those signals are ignored. The body escalates gently at first. Loud symptoms come later. Listening sooner prevents unnecessary strain.
2. Pushing past the body was learned, not instinctive.
I was taught to override physical limits in the name of endurance. Rest was treated as optional rather than necessary. That lesson shaped how I measure strength. Unlearning it requires intention. Listening now is a form of re-education.
3. Fatigue is information, not failure.
Sleepiness and stiffness are not moral shortcomings. They are messages asking for care. Ignoring them increases pressure internally. Responding restores balance. The body is communicating wisdom, not weakness.
4. Rest and boundaries protect more than energy.
When I listen to my body, emotional steadiness returns. Spiritual clarity sharpens. Relationships feel less strained. Rest affects everything downstream. Boundaries allow presence to remain intact.
5. Peace follows embodiment.
Listening to the body brings peace that effort cannot manufacture. The nervous system settles. Trust becomes easier to access. God’s care feels tangible rather than abstract. Embodiment grounds faith in lived experience.
Final Thoughts
The body tells the truth even when I try to outwork it.
Listening is not indulgence.
It is wisdom practiced early.
Today, I am choosing to listen sooner.
Your Turn
What has your body been trying to tell you lately?
What might shift if you listened before exhaustion arrived?
A Gentle Companion
If this reflection resonates, my book 17 Syllables of Me was written from the same attentiveness. Each poem offers a small pause, inviting readers to notice what their inner life and body are already communicating. It is a quiet companion for those learning to honor both faith and embodiment together.

Thank you for taking the time to read! 🤗
© 2026 Amelie Chambord

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