Pay Attention

The thing I keep telling my kids… and finally heard myself.

I say it at least ten times a day.

“Pay attention.”

Usually while someone is walking down the stairs backward…or trying to carry a conversation, a stuffed animal, and a tablet simultaneously…or—my personal favorite—attempting to use the bathroom while actively playing.

My kids are five and seven, which means they are masters of divided attention and chaos. And I am their full-time narrator of reality.

“Face forward.”

“One thing at a time.”

“Pay attention to what you’re doing.”

It sounds responsible. Grounded. Wise.

It is also wildly ironic.

Because while I’ve been coaching them on how to exist safely in their bodies…I have been quietly ignoring my own.

The Kind of “Fine” That Isn’t Fine

Usually if folks ask how I’m doing, I can respond honestly with, “I’m good!” and a genuine smile. 

I sleep 6-8 hours each night.

In fact, climbing into bed is my favorite part of the day - no offense to literally everyone I love.

I exercise. I eat well. I function.

By most standards, I’m doing everything “right.”

But here’s what I wasn’t paying attention to:

• The fact that I wake up multiple times a night

• The mental gymnastics routine my brain performs at 2:17am

• The inability to actually power down at the end of the day

• The subtle but constant hum of tension in my body

I’ve been checking the “sleep” box…without asking whether I was actually recovering.

The Moment I Took My Own Advice (Kind Of)

It started with a scan.

I used the 3D body scanner in the studio and then did what I’ve done for so many clients—I opened the report and reviewed the data.

At first, I saw what most people see:my body, my “flaws,” the things I could change.

But then I shifted perspectives.

Coach brain kicked in.

And suddenly, the story changed.

This wasn’t a “try harder” situation. It wasn’t “lift heavier” or “tighten up your nutrition.”

The data told a different story:

You don’t need more output. You need more support.

Posture patterns. Fat distribution. Subtle indicators that didn’t scream… but definitely whispered: Your body is not underworked. It’s under-recovered.

Then My Body Got Louder

A few days later, I tweaked my neck and upper back.

Nothing dramatic—just enough to be annoying.

I handed my son the massage gun.He treated it like a full-body amusement park ride.

I handed it to my daughter.She hovered near the problem like she was afraid to offend it.

Finally, I asked my husband.

He casually said,“Oh—your traps are really tight.”

Noted.

Then came the dentist.

For the first time ever:“You might want to consider a night guard.”

Teeth grinding.

Interesting.

Because the day before, I had caught myself mid-workday—jaw clenched, shoulders up, face inches from my screen, headache building.

I remember thinking:

Why am I squeezing my teeth this hard?

And then immediately… I kept working.

When the Pattern Becomes Obvious

Out of curiosity, I asked ChatGPT about teeth grinding.

Causes. Demographics. Patterns.

And the response felt a little too familiar.

Chronic stress.High-functioning.Mentally active.Driven adults.Always thinking.Always doing.

Oh.

Cool.

So… me.

Pay Attention (But Not the Way You Think)

Here’s what hit me:

I’ve been telling my kids to pay attention so they don’t fall down the stairs.

Meanwhile, I’ve been metaphorically walking backward through my own life—juggling responsibilities, ideas, expectations, creativity, work—and wondering why my body feels like it’s bracing for impact.

Paying attention isn’t just about focus.It’s about awareness.

It’s about noticing:

• The tension before it becomes pain

• The stress before it becomes symptoms

• The fatigue before it becomes burnout

Because your body is always talking.

Just… not always loudly.

The Hard Truth

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

I can:

• Keep working hard

• Keep checking the boxes

• Keep being “fine”

And also keep:

• Clenching my jaw

• Waking up exhausted

• Carrying tension like it’s part of my personality

Or…I can actually listen.

What Paying Attention Looks Like Now

Not dramatic. Not extreme. Just intentional.

• Creating space between input and rest

• Letting my nervous system downshift before bed

• Releasing tension when I notice it (instead of powering through)

• Building recovery into my routine—not as a reward, but as a requirement

Because here’s the reframe I didn’t know I needed:

Recovery isn’t what you earn after doing enough.It’s what allows you to function in the first place.

Full Circle

So yes—I will still tell my kids:

“Pay attention.”

But now, it means something a little different.

Not just: “Watch where you’re going.”

But also: “Notice what your body is telling you.”

Because whether you’re five, seven, or fully grown…

The skill isn’t just focusing on the task in front of you.

It’s recognizing when your body is asking you to slow down.

And actually listening.

If you’ve been “fine” lately…

Maybe this is your sign to pay attention, too.

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Snack-sized sentiments, full-sized feelings. Follow @MoveMakerInc for more everyday chaos and emotional clarity.