I trusted my body. Then Oxford called.
I needed to step away.
Not from my work, not from my purpose, not from what I am building. From everything. From the noise of what had been happening in my personal life, from the weight of the decisions I had been carrying, from my kids, from my husband, from the daily shape of my life. I just needed to go somewhere else and be nobody's anything for a few days.
Being a mother makes that complicated. But sometimes life aligns in a way that feels deliberate.
The Medicine Festival happened to fall across my birthday. The 13th of August. My lucky number. Ten thousand people in a field, music, medicine, workshops, drums, cacao and strangers becoming friends. I asked my husband if I could go. Despite everything between us right now, he is my friend. And he said yes.
That yes changed something.
What the festival showed me
I arrived. I breathed. I stopped.
My mind immediately made a list of every workshop I should attend, every experience I should not miss, every opportunity to expand and grow and do and be. And then I put the list down. And instead I just asked my body: what do you want right now?
And I followed that. Every single time.
I ended up in places I had not planned to be. A Haka workshop that shook me to my core and showed me something about masculine and feminine energy I had never understood quite like that before. Dancing like crazy with Samuel J and Sarah O'Connor in a way that felt like my whole body was celebrating something. Meeting people I already knew from my sessions out there in that field. Meeting incredible photographers and my friends Bart and Rash. Meeting great people. Being met.
Every experience arrived exactly when it needed to.
The drums
On my birthday, the 13th, I led a breathwork session with Mel, founder of Bali Breathwork, one of my breathwork teachers. I was the angel in the room, working with people, holding the field. On my birthday. It was one of the most beautiful things I have done.
That evening I was walking with my friend George. And yes, we were inseparable at the festival, every experience i had, we had together. We now shared more than an energy. Our giggles, hugs, tears, sleeping in tents next to each, early morning showers and walks to the toilet together. Real stuff! So… We had brought our drums. And out of nowhere a woman approached us and said: can you come and play with me?
We told her we were not musicians. She said it does not matter. Just come.
I felt fear. A small, quick flash of it. I am not a musician. I do shamanic work with my drum but I am not a musician. What am I doing on a stage?
And then I thought: what am I actually afraid of?
And I sat down on that stage, closed my eyes, and smiled. We lost the rhythm at one point, completely, and it was so human and so funny and we laughed through it and found our way back. And it was beautiful. Not because it was perfect. Because it was real.
That is what stepping away gives you. The chance to do something terrifying and laugh when it goes wrong and keep going anyway.
The cold showers
I quite like my comfort. Especially when it comes to bathrooms. But i had a surprise waiting. I got undressed on my first morning, happy stepped under the shower, cold water poured down on me, my hair stood up and I forgot how to breathe.
I had cold showers every morning in a shower room that, after a couple of days, had seen better times. I slept in a tent with ten thousand people around me. I binged on cacao. Breathed more dust than in my entire life. I slept very little.
And I stayed alive. More than alive.
There is something about stripping away comfort that reminds you of what actually matters. Not the clean bathroom. Not the perfect schedule. Not the plan. The body. The moment. What is actually here right now.
Today
Today I was supposed to be making drums with Ruben. My third drum with him actually. Something I genuinely wanted to do. Something soulful and deep and meaningful.
And I woke up feeling rough. My body said: lie down. Rest. Recover.
My head said: you are missing out.
I chose my body.
Because I know what happens when I do not. I have lived that story enough times. I push through, I override, I perform being fine, and eventually the body stops asking and just stops. And I am not doing that anymore.
Yes I am missing a day with my friends doing something beautiful. And I am giving myself the chance to integrate what happened at the festival, to actually let it land in my body before I go and pour myself into four conferences.
Because Oxford confirmed last week. The 4th edition of the Global Conference on Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation has invited me to lead. Not only to present my work, but to lead the conference itself. Washington is confirmed. Paris is confirmed. London is confirmed. Oxford is confirmed.
The body knew before I did. It always does.
What I want to say to you
Not everyone has a friend of a husband who will say yes when you need to step away. I know that. I am grateful for mine.
But the principle does not require a festival or a tent or a plane ticket.
It requires one question asked honestly: what does my body actually need right now?
Not what your mind says sounds good. Not what looks productive or impressive or like the right next step. What the body is telling you. In this moment. Right now.
Because no matter how exciting something sounds, no matter how much expansion or success you think it might bring you, if the body is saying come down, step away, rest - do just that.
It is not weakness. It is the most intelligent thing you can do.
Trust your body. It never lies.
And if you need somewhere safe to come back to yourself, you know where I am.
With luv, Natalia x
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Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes. Including you.- Anne Lamott