I have basically just said, “I’m lonely. Here. Eat this.” There wasn’t appreciation. It wasn’t “Thank you, body.” – Geneen Roth
There’s this text post that goes around every once in a while that says something like, “You spend your life hating your body, while all it does is love you with all it has.” And that’s true. It’s something we don’t think about enough. Or at all.
It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.
Because it’s true: I may occupy my body and live in it and control it, but the things it can do are incredible and amazing and entirely beyond what my mind would have been able to come up with on it’s own … or even beyond the possibility of thought.
As I type this, I am breathing without thinking about it. My heart is beating. Oxygenated blood is being circulated through miles and miles of veins and arteries. My fingers are moving across the keyboard with barely a thought, more on impulse than anything else. My body knows the keys, understands how to type, better than my mind does.
Right now, without looking at the keys or sparing more than a millisecond of thought for which button to press when, I type: abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz. zyxwvutsrqpomnlkjihgfedcab.
My stomach is digesting food and my spine and muscles are keeping me upright and, later, my legs will carry across the room and my fingers will close around items that I need and my eyes will scan papers and my brain will understand them. I am a soul inside a body that takes such amazing care of me.
My body loves the hell outta me, and all I ever do is hate it.