It’s interesting to think about what we are tethered to in life—some are choices, like spouses, religion, and careers, and others are not, like the oops baby (yes, been there; greatest thing that ever happened to me), but nothing is quite as significantly bound as your body. If you think about it, it’s the highest attachment in your life. Everything else you can change quickly or give up or quit or buy or sell or wed or divorce or register or apply or consume or start or finish. But your body is what you are tethered to for life, for better or for worse, until death do you part.
How many things about your body have you tried to change? Weight, perhaps? Hair color? Bulk up? Lower cholesterol? I’ve had a few attempts—weight, muscle mass, flexibility, skin perfection; I’ve even tried to teach myself how to be a belly-breather which didn’t come naturally at all. But, ultimately, my body is still about the same, just tweaked very slightly. I can’t force myself to run a 4 minute mile (I’d be happy with a 6). I can’t fly (man, that would save a lot of time). My back is done by the end of a 13-hour shift (helping people who are tethered to severe limitations). And I’ll burn if I don’t put on sunscreen (a trait my oldest child is not so happy about inheriting). I can’t detach from my body and its limitations, but I am happy with my abilities and don’t take them for granted. All I have to do is see person who is wheelchair-bound, and I am moved to say a prayer of thanks.
I don’t know about you, but I’m going to keep doing some maintenance on this body of mine since it’s the only one I’ll ever get. And I want to be tethered to something strong. Despite its affinity for sugar, I can feed it vegetables sometimes. I’ll put it to sleep at a reasonable hour. I can get it to run three or four times a week. And someday I wouldn’t mind if I can run it for one mile in six minutes. Ahhh.