This is not a political post, it’s about my body.
I am ever grateful for this container I am symbiotic with, but we’ve learned a few things about each other as we’ve traversed our time around the sun.
She’s ultra conservative and I’m well, not so much. I like to go, go, go. She wants to sleep. I want to eat, she’s afraid of famine and holds on to all the fuel she can, for as long as she can. I want to use my muscles, she disagrees.
My thoughts are fast… she moves slow. Even her heartbeat is around 54 beats.
I love my body. She’s grudgingly taken us on many adventures and we’ve seen quite a bit together. We’ve walked thousands of miles and are even in harmony now and then, but generally, I want more than she’s willing to give, and if I push her, she lets me know just how displeased she is.
My body is a picky eater. There are things I’d love to try and flavors I can imagine, but she’s a thoroughbred and lets me know when she’s unhappy with what I’ve been giving her.
Sometimes I’m annoyed with this opposition, but then I think of the babies she’s made. The feelings she gives and the things we’ve been through together and I try to soften my expectations and make peace with her. In most of my life, I’ve pushed for perfection…. or what feels like the best…. in just about everything. I realize that I have very high expectations. I should realize that millions would LOVE to have my body. They’d be grateful for my health and strength and ability. But I stubbornly push and expect more at times and for that I probably should take a step back and rethink.
I can race through life, or I can listen to my body and take it all a little slower. The bigger issue is the battle with time. Yep, that third factor in life. What you get done, what you don’t and how much time you have. I fully expect to be 113, and I want to be sure I get there happy and healthy and able to take care of myself. Maybe that’s why she’s so conservative. She’s playing the long game. Smart body. ;0)