It's better to mind your body better

Then I heard it again.  “Hey!  We need to talk!”  What the heck was going on?

“It’s me, your body.  I haven’t said a word all these years but I’m not about to take any more of your abuse and it’s time we got a few things straight.  This is a partnership, but it’s been pretty lop sided almost since the beginning.  You’ve been sitting up there in the driver’s seat, oblivious to my needs for too long!  Enough's enough!”

“What’s this all about?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.  “Well, let me tell you!” was the reply.  “Things started out pretty good.  That was when Mom was totally in charge of both of us.  Everything was perfect.  I was always warm, clean and well fed.  We got equal treatment.  But then, when we were about two years old, you started to take control.  And ever since then things haven’t been the same.”

“You must be kidding,” I said.  “What’s this body vs. mind bit? We’re just one!” 

“The #%*& we are!  See, that’s the problem, you don’t see thing they way they are.  Your ego is so big and you’re so used to running things that you treat me as if I was some inanimate machine.  It’s actually worse than that.  Think about the way you’ve treated the cars you have owned!  You’ve taken them through a gentle initial break-in period.  You’ve followed the owner’s manual, keeping them well oiled with the proper lubricant and making sure that their tanks always have a sufficient amount of the right kind of gas.  You generally operate within the limits for which they were designed and, when they have needed repair, you’ve gotten them fixed.  How about me?”

“My break-in period was really a “break” in. period. “Unfortunately, we didn’t come with a maintenance manual.  Mom always knew what to do, but you were something else.  In the early days, you started getting me into all sorts of predicaments.  I remember when you stuck my finger into an electric socket to satisfy your curiosity.  Who got the jolt?  Then there was the time you went wild on your bicycle and smashed me into a wall.  Who got hurt?  Over the years, the cuts, the bruises, the sprains and even broken bones!  You didn’t care.  It was a good thing Mom was around so you could run to her and she’d make things better – but then you’d just go out and get me into another mess.  And the only reason that you even did that was because I would send out waves of pain.  What if I had not?  There were the times you made me do things that you knew were wrong – the only consolation for me was that you had to share in at least some of the punishments where mental anguish was involved.  And through it all I just suffered silently. You just continued on your merry way.”

“And what about “fuel” for energy and sustenance.  I figure that, over the years, you’ve probably fed me somewhat in excess of 30 tons of every kind of organic matter known to man – and you always go for the worst stuff just to provide instant gratification for you – a feeling of pleasure that doesn’t even last for more than a few seconds.  Think of the number of french fries, greasy hamburgers, ice-cream cones, candy bars and such that you have shoveled into me over the years.  Would you have ever even considered putting anything like that into your car’s gas tank?  I’m the one that then has to deal with the long-term results.  I have to worry about clogged arteries; I have to drag around all the extra weight; I had to sit in the dentist chair and get cavities filled – while you just continued to go on indulging yourself. And think about the 10 thousand or so gallons of liquid that you have poured into me - sodas, kool aid, and beer, wine and other noxious substances.  Occasionally you did remember a little milk and water but it just isn’t fair!”

“And then there is the question of operating within the limits.  At least with your car, even if you don’t want to, there are laws that make you think twice.  But me?  You’ve hardly considered the risks.  Routinely you’ve run me right to the limit and beyond, working me to the point where my ‘fuel tank’ was empty and I was exhausted, only to ignore my situation and push me further.  You’ve mad me jump out of planes and dive deep into the sea.  I wasn’t meant to be a bird or a fish, but I went along.  You’ve taken me up mountains so high I couldn’t breath, and risked us both as we hung from incredible precipices.  All this craziness just because it pleased you, but without my consultation.  And even signals of pain didn’t work.   As soon as I let up, there you went again.”

“And finally, when I have a problem, what is your usual reaction – time will take care of things.  So I have to exhaust my resources to cure myself, usually without help, unless I send incredibly strong pain signals to you.  But I don’t do that lightly because it hurts me too.  By that time things are usually more serious than if you had responded earlier.”

“There are other things, and even if small, they add up.  For example, for years, every day, you tied a rope around my neck, and although it was usually a pretty rope, I walked around all day half choked and feeling like a criminal.  Was that really necessary?”

“Well now things are different.  I can’t always respond as rapidly as you want.  I can’t heal as quickly either from the results of your recklessness.  And I’m tired of playing second fiddle.  This is either going to become an equal partnership, or I’m bailing out!”

“You’re what?”  “Well not really – because when I go, you go too.  But guess what, you either take better care of me and consider my wishes, or the pain level will increase, the performance level will diminish, and we’re both going to be very unhappy.  It’s not a threat.  It’s a fact.  That’s it, I’ve got nothing more to say.  The rest is up to you.”

That was it.  When I tried to communicate further, all I got was silence.  “What the heck was that all about?”  But the more I thought about this little exchange, the more the essence of the message hit home.  I really hadn’t thought about the care and maintenance of my body in past years, except in the very few times when something went drastically wrong – like an attack of appendicitis.  And pain was the main source of communication between my body and me.   When everything has gone well, the sense of well-being was just taken for granted.  That seemed to be the natural state of things.

So I made a vow to myself.  Things will be different.  I will mind my body better and be more attentive to building a partnership.  It clearly is in my (our) own best interest!  I don’t know if these thoughts come with aging – which of course, is a process I won’t admit to.  But both my mind and body seemed to seem more relaxed and comfortable as I slipped back into my daydreams and once again, watched the clouds go by.