In Awe of Our Bodies

Thinking about our relationships with our bodies

Floating in thoughts about our bodies | Artwork by Brianne Alcala

Hello, dear friends,

How do we improve our relationship with our body?

This interesting knot of a question came up when I asked a new reader about potential newsletter topics. (I very much welcome your ideas for future topics, too. What should we explore here?)

I wasn’t sure that I should dive into this topic. After all, what do I know? I generally (not to toot my own horn) have a kind and wonderful relationship with my body. I love my body. I’m grateful for it. Even when it surprises me in unpleasant ways, I don’t wish for another one.

This is one body I have. We are together for life.

(As

Maggie Smith

writes in her wonderful poem Bride, “How long have I been wed / to myself?”)

But then, maybe my (outlying? refreshing? weird?) perspective could be useful to you. I’d love to learn how you feel about your body, what your relationship with your body is like.

Our relationship with our bodies in a real thing.

I’ll go further:

How we think of our body matters.

How we view ourselves makes a difference.

How we talk to ourselves and about ourselves is a major factor in our lives.

My body is my friend

I think about my body the way I think about a friend.

I wouldn’t expect my friends to be perfect. I would be, frankly, suspicious if you never forgot a single thing, never missed a text, never said something awkward or weird or upsetting, never had an off day. I’d expect you, though, to have sincere intentions, to be kind, to be up for having fun together. I will mess up, too, sometimes. I will think about your birthday and then still forget to call or text you on the right day. (This happened this week! Happy Birthday, Jill!) Argh.

We are human.

In the same way, my body isn’t perfect.

I don’t expect it to be perfect.

Bodies have quirks. Just like friends do.

My vision is not super. I can’t even tell there are words on this screen without my glasses.

I have a chronic autoimmune disorder — basically, my own immune system is attacking my body. Not ideal.

My singing is generally off-key.

One of my vocal cords is partially paralyzed. It means I have a breathy voice. It means I cough often.

But — but — but — my body does allow me to talk.

My body makes it possible for my fingers and brain to work in concert to type these words to you, and to know which button to push to send the words hundreds and thousands of miles away to your computer.

My body allows me to breathe — actually, my body does it for me, every minute, without me having to think about it, somehow taking in oxygen and expelling carbon dioxide and making this body run! What!

Basically, I’m in awe of my body — and your body, too.

The Bedrock of Great Relationships

I’m starting here, in this place of glee and joy, because I think all stellar relationships — human-to-human or otherwise — are rooted in a sense of gratitude.

If you hold onto the thread of gratitude — and yes, sometimes life is sh*tty and awful — you can almost always swim through the rushing, muddy current and find a handhold at a better spot.

Being grateful for one thing doesn’t negate the sheer terribleness of another. We all need to dwell in disappointments and acknowledge the difficult and agonizing.

The thread of gratitude can help redirect your long-term attention away from the worst suffering and toward hope.

“Hope, unlike optimism, is rooted in unalloyed reality.” — Dr. Jerome Groopman

Bodies are amazing

If I start thinking in detail about human bodies, my mind falters. It’s as if I was trying to grasp the size of the universe — it’s too stunning to comprehend.

How it is possible that from two cells comes a full independent creature — with hair and nails and teeth and a stomach and lungs and a heart and a mind more powerful than a computer — who keeps growing and learning and adapting?

It’s astonishing. It’s magic. It’s incredible.

Think of what our hearts are doing right now. Beating over and over, automatically, without our thoughts, in adapting to our energy needs and environment in particular ways we don’t even know or understand.

Or think about what happens while we sleep, all the different mechanisms and adjustments underway each night to keep us alive, all the tidying up of our brain, the reorganizing of neurons, the cell repair. It’s astounding!

Honestly, I even find peeing extraordinary.

Consider:

• Your lungs: “Every day, you breathe in just over 2,000 gallons of air—enough to almost fill up a normal-sized swimming pool. That's a lot of air. It's the amount needed to oxygenate approximately 2,000 gallons of blood pumped through your heart daily.” (American Lung Association: How Lungs Work)

• Your heart: “Each day, your heart beats around 100,000 times. This continuously pumps about five litres (eight pints) of blood around your body through a network of blood vessels called your circulatory system.” (British Heart Foundation: How Your Heart Works)

• Your eyes: Your retina has about 130 million cells that are sensitive to light. They detect the light and transform it into electrical signals that go to your brain, where the view of the world as we see it is created. ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY MILLION CELLS!!! AMAZING. (NIH’s National Eye Institute: How Your Eyes Work video)

I could go on and on. We could go through the entire body. Here’s the point: Even when some parts of our body are ailing or simply aren’t working as we might choose, so many other parts of our body are working miraculously all day and night.

Side note

I do realize that we are flooded with messages about how our body should supposedly function or look like. They get more power than they deserve. We can decide they are actually wrong. I know, it doesn’t feel that easy. Today is not those messages’ day in the sun, but we can talk about this more later, if you like.

Your body

My friend, your body is spectacular.

You are reading this by virtue of an invisible symphony of light, neurons, electrical signals — actions far beyond our complete understanding.

It’s really cool, your body. It’s a stunning body.

I want to thank your body for being here with me and for keeping you alive. I’d love to hear more about your bodily relationship, your lifelong connection.

I hope you and your body have a sweet day ahead.

To our journeys,
Brianne