My Body Is A Mystery
I woke up feeling restless. Something had shifted inside me. In the same way that it does every year, when the summer begins to break. Every year, I forget that I’ll feel like that, and every year it surprises me. I wanted to write a fantasy story. I wanted to go somewhere else. Somewhere with mountains, and open space. The urge was so strong that I rushed to my computer and moved the Lord of the Rings trilogy to the top of my netflix queue. Not because I need to watch more orcs getting beheaded. Oy vey. That got excessive after the third one or so. I wanted to see the dramatic New Zealand/Middle-earth landscapes. That’s pretty desperate.
(image source here)
It was Saturday. I told my fiancé that we had to have a wild adventure. We got on the Hudson Line and went up to Tarrytown. It took about an hour. We walked up a hill into the center of town. It pretty much looked like a town. There were some antique shops, an ice cream place, and a 7-Eleven.
“Is this enough of an adventure?” my fiancé asked.
I said, “I’m pretty hungry.”
We ate at this Greek place. It wasn’t bad. Then we walked around a little, and then we went home. The most adventurous moment came when the train door started closing before I could get on and my fiancé threw himself in its path and saved me from getting stranded alone in Tarrytown. Which would’ve been more boring than anything else.
Sunday morning, I woke up feeling totally normal. As though my hunger for an adventure and giant mountains had somehow been sated. And I started wondering what my deal was. What was my body trying to tell me? Why did it have all of these desires I couldn’t understand?
Recently, a friend was telling me about her battle with cancer. I know everyone says “battle” to the point that it’s practically become the technical term, but it seemed fitting, hearing her story. She described the changes her body underwent. Some of them were things I’d heard about before. Some of them were kind of shocking. After her stem cell treatment, she was literally transformed. As she talked, I kept thinking, “I don’t understand anything about my body. I have no idea what its capable of.” I felt almost awed.
And suddenly I found myself in spiritual territory. The vast unknown. The endless stretches of unexplored possibility. I had this sense of how little I know about how things work. And the fact that I knew so little was invigorating and thrilling. Almost as though it implied that anything was possible.
If my friend’s body could be transformed, then the world was full of other basic secrets.
I think I shy away from thoughts like that, because I like to stay safely in the rational camp. Out beyond the gates, there’s all this swirling mist, and cliffs, and strange sounds—maybe dragons.
As a kid, I wanted so much to believe in monsters. I had an imaginary monster friend named Melissa, and I came SO close to believing in her. I wanted to believe in magic. But I never could quite get there. Even as a seven-year-old. I had already, though almost accidentally, drawn a thick line between fact and fiction.
I’m a big believer in there always being a good explanation for things. And by “good” I mean, “disappointingly familiar.”
So there’s a good explanation for my friend’s body, and what it did. But for some reason, I began to think that even if I figured it out, I’d still be in awe. It’s ridiculous to divide the world up into things that are awe-inspiring and things that aren’t, and have logic and rationality and fact all on the boring side. I don’t know where I learned that thinking rationally had to drain the magic out of the world. But I want to unlearn that.
My body is a mystery. Not just because I don’t understand all of its systems and physiological complexities. But because of how powerful it is, and how powerfully it shapes my life. It can make me need an adventure. When I met my fiancé, it chose him almost immediately. I felt like I got dragged along behind. I was like, “Wait…Shouldn’t I be dating more guys first? This seems a little hasty…”
But my body was totally sure. I didn’t know that it could do that. I’d heard about that before. But until I felt it, I had no way of understanding anything real about it.
Maybe we should all become doctors, so that we understand ourselves better. I’m often surprised by how little we’re expected to know about how we function physically. But even if I do become a doctor, I’d like to reserve the right to feel stunned by how incredible my body is. And impressed by how much mystery the world will always retain, no matter how many explanations we come up with.
(I searched “Tarrytown.” Apparently there’s a castle there. Should’ve stayed a little longer…Image source here)
* * * *
Un-Roast: Today I love how sensitive my body is. Even though it means I get sick a lot (which I definitely don’t love). Sometimes I think that maybe my body just wants to be as involved in world as possible.
Kate on August 16th 2010 in Uncategorized
Cindy responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 12:17 pm #
our bodies and life ARE a big stinking mystery.
I love everything you said here, and I feel so much the same…
it’s when I’ve just “gone with it” and later felt I didn’t make enough of a conscience choice that has caused me to fear trusting my inner instinct…and I hate that.
of course NOW I have to go pop in the Lord of the Rings now because I ADORE the entire series. I love Liv’s wardrobe…and the lil hobbits
okay. enough of that.
love that your fiance took you for an adventure and that he risked being squished by a train door to protect you from bordem!
that’s love my sweet!
xoxoxo
Kate responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 12:30 pm #
@Cindy
I admit it, I love her outfits too. Sometimes I wish I lived there, in Rivendell. Y’know, just chillin’ and being an elf. But why do they always have to send an army through and destroy the gorgeous scene??
And yeah, it’s hard to find that balance between thinking things through and following your instincts. Sometimes my instincts are totally right, sometimes they aren’t. But most of the time when they aren’t, there’s this nagging little thread of unease under the surface. I keep pushing it down, but it’s there. I have to learn to look for that.
caronae responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 12:43 pm #
I went to Tarrytown for a wedding at the beginning of the summer and I think I ate at that same Greek restaurant. My body physically itches for adventure pretty frequently; sometimes just getting out of the city and into a new space quells that need.
I like that our bodies want to explore. They crave new things, new adventures and excitement. It keeps life interesting, for me at least. I like how my body physically leads me places and tells me to do certain things, sometimes. There is something magical about it.
After being in the hospital in July, I came away with a huge awe over my body and the way it works. That something so destructive could happen and then it could heal itself. It is magic. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Un-roast: I like my whimsical side. Dragons, unicorns, castles, enchantment. All these things are real to me. I don’t live in an imaginary world, but I have an imagination. A damn good one.
Rob responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 12:50 pm #
“We have not the reverent feeling for the rainbow that the savage has, because we know how it is made. We have lost as much as we gained by prying into that matter.”
— Mark Twain
Jen responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 2:06 pm #
LOVE this. I also have a hard time letting myself just appreciate the mysteries and the things I don’t understand. I always want someone to explain it to me.
But I love that my body can do things I don’t expect it to.
Good topic.
Betherann responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 2:28 pm #
Great post. I blogged about something (sort of) similar not too long ago (link here: http://tinyurl.com/292cakr). Realizing that I am so disconnected from my closest companion in my life (i.e., my bod) was pretty shocking.
Also, the castle at Tarrytown rocks. Definitely check it out next time. My friend and I went there one wintry evening when the building itself was closed, and it was deliciously creepy and beautiful (my Flickr-ed photos here: http://tinyurl.com/28cz24c). Fun! Thanks for reminding me of this nearly-forgotten trip! 😀
bo responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 2:55 pm #
my body can totally confound me and i know a bunch about anatomy, physiology, etc (massage school). i am also a yoga, teacher, i feel like i am supposed to know whats going on, but i really don’t always.
p.s. i just wrote a blog about believing in things that don’t exists. well sort of anyway. i totally related to almost believing in monsters.
http://adancingyogini.wordpress.com/2010/08/16/the-elusive-chocolate-moose/
Elena responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 3:33 pm #
Love your article Kate. I agree with how amazing our bodies really are and how much they already know. Life is a mystery and thats what makes it so amazing.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the “gut” feeling that people talk about. It’s amazing to me how my mind fights the gut so much sometimes and I’m realizing how important it is to listen to it these days. I am a much happier person because of it! Whether its expressing something to someone, or just staying home instead of going out when I don’t feel like it.
Its interesting to me how in this culture we praise individuality, but are not taught to trust our instincts. It can be very hard growing up in a world where there seems to be increasing societal pressure to do things in a certain way. To go to college right after high school, to go to grad school right after college, and immediately get a full time job to make money.
In more personal terms, I have often found myself asking for advice probably more than I need. There is a lot I already know about myself and my body, I think it is just about listening better. We’re not taught to live in our bodies, we’re not taught to feel or listen to what is really best for us. I wish we could encourage each other to take better care of ourselves. To trust that are feelings are there for a reason, and that they will pass through, because they do. And I hope that everyone can have this opportunity to care for and trust their bodies. I know that a lot of people out there are not as fortunate especially with the failing health policies and the increasing economic disparity.
I know this is a bit of a tangent, but I hope our country can prioritize and realize that people’s health and education are what truly makes people able have life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Christy responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 3:55 pm #
One of the most beautiful chapters yet!
Wei-Wei responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 9:50 pm #
This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve read here. And that’s saying something. We need to realise that our bodies are capable of so much we can’t even imagine, and it’s a lot smarter than we give it credit for. Another reminder that our bodies are amazing!
Wei-Wei
B.T. responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 11:40 pm #
Beautifully written. I love that the world is full of more mystery than I can ever understand.
Kate responded on 16 Aug 2010 at 11:41 pm #
@Wei-Wei
Thank you!!
San D responded on 17 Aug 2010 at 4:28 am #
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
Hamlet, Act I, Scene 5
Amy responded on 17 Aug 2010 at 7:26 am #
understanding your body and listening to it are two different things. for my money, listening to it is more important. paying attention to my body, taking care of it and nurturing it has helped me make the most of every other aspect of my life.
enjoy getting to know our body….i’m sure it’s wonderful!
amy
Hayley responded on 17 Aug 2010 at 11:22 pm #
Please write a book. Like, soon? Actually, whenever. But do it because you are a fantastic writer.
Jo responded on 20 Aug 2010 at 10:02 pm #
Even as a nurse/physician/medical person, you still would retain your sense of wonder about your body.
I’ve been doing nothing but brains for close on ten years now, and I’m still agog at how beautifully our brains work, how well they recover from injury and insult, and how incredibly flexible they are. That the plasticity of the brain wasn’t recognized until late in the last century is incredible to me; all you have to do is watch somebody with a brain injury recover to be amazed.
The body? Even more incredible. It can take nearly all the technology and drugs we can throw at it, yet come out just as well on the other side as it went in.
I have seen babies born, midwifed people through dying, watched as patients got better and worse, and marvelled at it all. We are incredible machines. We deserve better: to respect what we can do physically and mentally, and glory in those weird moments when we get the urge to run and jump and fly and swim in moving water.