“Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body?” Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
“What in the world is the matter with you? I just don’t get it. I’ve had your back since day one, OK? I’ve done my best to get your attention: whispering, muttering, speaking, rambling, shouting, screaming, sometimes in such a high-pitched tone that Edvard Munch himself would be envious (which, by the way, is really exhausting), and you still look utterly mystified. Yes, it’s me, your body. Finally, you got it. Duh…”
Should our bodies talk, why would they launch into such a tirade?
Well, why not, considering what we do to them?
We work 10 hours a day, eyes glued to a screen, bottom glued to a chair. Coming back home, we skip dinner (we’re feeling fat enough, plus we had five leaves of salad and half an apple for lunch), chew on three plant protein bars and resume our work because time is never enough to finish everything, isn’t it? And we really, really want a promotion that has long been denied to us by our narcissistic boss. We start having fantasies of our bed waving at us, luring us into the freshly decorated, soft blue-walled bedroom smelling of lavender. Heroically, with our feet in a cold water basin, we resist the temptation, pressing the keyboard harder and harder, slurping our tenth coffee until our head falls forward. With squinting eyes and guilty hands, we set the alarm clock for exactly five, no, eight minutes from now (we’re feeling generous today) and slouch over the desk, drooling on our files.
We’re drained, bored to death, famished. Opening the fridge, we see the remains of two tomatoes and three cucumbers from last month (what were we thinking?), bottles of mayo and ketchup, packs of smoked bacon, turkey pepperoni, prosciutto, a tub of margarine, soda cans, fudgy double chocolate doughnuts (our mouth waters instantly). When a feeling of guilt stabs our heart, we take out four bottles of pale golden beer, grip the neck of one, open it with our lighter and chug the foamy liquid in two gulps, waiting for our neck and shoulder muscles to loosen. We throw the KFC famous bowl bought on our way home into the microwave oven and watch it rotate while the smell of warm crispy chicken nuggets floating in rich, velvety gravy wafts through the kitchen. We’re all set for watching at least two seasons of Breaking Bad, not before we take the digital scale from the bathroom and place it on top of the wardrobe behind a messy pile of weight loss supplements.
We gape at silicone-breasted, full-lipped, flawless-skinned, long-legged women on TikTok and Instagram, nonchalantly flaunting their string bikinis along picturesque beaches, pristine lakeshores and resplendent infinity pools. With our neck’s carotid arteries dilating, we storm out of the house, head to our bank and make another loan for a buttock lift, brow lift and whatever goes with ‘lift,’ and, of course, Botox injections. Who cares about last year’s swelling, bleeding, bruises, numbness, infection, septal perforation? Now we have Kylie Jenner ’s spectacular nose. Or a pretty similar one (as some of our jealous friends call it). In two weeks’ time, we’ll look like a mummy, we’ll be in agonizing pain (again), but, hey, we’re going to look gorgeous for at least the next six months. We need to keep us with the Kardashians, don’t we?
Sadly, these are run-of-the-mill stories.
We are, much too often, either oblivious to or ignorant of our bodies’ signals.
We take our bodies for granted, neglect them, exploit them, blaming our modus operandi on so many burdens and pressures of life in the 21st century. We give up on our bodies on account of our bad genes, of the inescapable air pollution, poor water quality, pesticides, herbicides, global pandemics, carcinogens, climate change and the upcoming Judgement Day.
Sometimes, to put it bluntly, we bring it on ourselves only by our prolonged and systematic body mistreatment.
Do you recognize yourself even to some extent in any such scenarios?
If you do and you genuinely consider getting back on track, here’s how to start: have a serious conversation with your body, one for which you will need a notebook and a pen. You’ll see why.
First, you may hear some heart-wrenching remarks about your current negative (to use a euphemism) habits, but, hey, this is life, grin and bear it. Suspicious as your body is, it will ask you questions about the true reasons behind such an unexpected, actually shocking, decision, and about your plan to move forward. Now it’s your turn to say something. Don’t mumble, speak up. If you sound too excited about this adventure, too eager for an earth-shattering change over the next three days, your body will tell you to take it easy. Write this down. It will also give you some precious tips for achieving balance between your body, mind and emotions. Write this down, too.
This fruitful, albeit arduous dialogue will probably be ended by your body:
“Sounds like a cliché, I know, but you do have one life to live so, yeah, let’s see what you’ve got.”
If I were you, I’d write this down with an exclamation mark!
Resources:
Walt Whitman, “I Sing the Body Electric,” Leaves of Grass
What kind of relationships do you want? 
Hi Claudia, another excellent article — well done! I think most of us tend to live only in our heads. We set a target focused on success and validation, and the rest of the body is expected to follow. That disconnects us from our bodies and from basic self-care. Yes, our bodies are not passive passengers. They protest, they plead, and eventually, if we don’t listen, they break down.
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Thank you so much for your comments. You captured the essence of my article very well. It’s so important to respect and invest in our body while also trying to avoid excesses of any kind.
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