The Body of Theseus

An odd thought occurred to me this morning. Is the human body a Ship of Theseus? Our cells are replacing themselves by countless numbers every second of every minute of every hour of every day. If that is so what really makes us who we are? Are we the same person we were at birth? I suspect not. It turns out it’s not the physical form that makes us who we are. We are indeed that Theseus ship. 

I’m certain when parts were replaced on the ship they weren’t replaced with parts exactly identical. A deck plank might have a slight warp the one before it did not, etc. So does that happen with us? Does one regenerated cell that is slightly misshapen from its predecessor change the others and down the line change our physical form slightly? The “infrastructure” that helped to create and contain our “essence” is being replaced daily, but the essence remains. This is one I’ll be pondering for a while.

Body Buddhism

I was describing to a friend today about how I've started using mindfulness, nonattachment, and principles of Buddhism and mediation in ordinary, daily activities. 

For example, when I get into bed at night I focus on my breathing. I imagine the oxygen molecules coming in through my nostrils and traveling through my nose down into my trachea. I “watch” them entering my lungs and making their way down into my alveoli. From there I observe them exchanging with carbon dioxide returning from my body. I watch as my blood cells pick up the molecules and deliver the fresh oxygen to all parts of my body. 

When I eat I “see” the saliva in my mouth making contact with the food I'm chewing. I feel its presence as it moves down my esophagus and entering into my stomach. I watch as my stomach enzymes begin breaking the food down even further, preparing it for my small intestine. There I watch as the broken down food enters my body, providing nourishment and energy. 

When I workout I imagine the cells of the muscle contracting and relaxing, working in tandem to achieve the repetition. Each rep a harmonious, coordinated dance of my body's muscle working together to achieve a goal. 

Recently I had a particularly nasty chest cold. It was almost impossible to breathe. My chest felt like it was full of cotton that wouldn't budge, and I was sore from all the coughing. During meditation sessions during the day and at night in my sleep I imagined each individual cold virus to be a tiny Brillo pad, a scratchy, ugly irritant that didn't belong in me. Then I would watch as the elements of my immune system engulfed and destroyed each one.

As I do each of these meditations on my body I talk to my body. Literally. “Accept this fresh oxygen in the spirit it is being given.” Or, “Please use this healthy food in the best way you know how.” During workouts I encourage my muscle cells as I'm watching them, “Push! Pull! Feel us all working together!” And as for my illness, “Immune system, please use your abilities to help rid me of this infection.”

Does all that work? Maybe. Maybe not. The point is that it has helped me to have a much stronger relationship with my body and my mind. After describing all this to my friend this morning, he he came up with a fantastic name for it: Body Buddhism. I can't get the phrase out of my head as it describes perfectly what I've been trying to put a name to. Body Buddhism brings a deeper harmony to me that only gets better the more I practice it. 

Talking To My Body

I’m curious if anyone else here “talks” to their body as a form of mindfulness and/or meditation. I do this when doing things like sleeping, eating, working out, etc. When I’m falling asleep, I imagine the oxygen on its path through my respiratory system all the way down into each individual lung sac and alveoli. I “see” the oxygen coming in and being assimilated and the carbon dioxide coming out.

When I’m at the gym, my movements during a repetition are deliberate and focused. I “see” the oxygen rushing to each muscle fiber, the fiber’s elements performing their functions, contracting and relaxing. I “feel” their joy in being useful.

When I eat I picture the various elements in my digestive system (teeth, muscles, enzymes, bacteria, etc) breaking my food down into its useful components. I “watch” each molecule being delivered to the various parts of my body for use, knowing I’m providing nourishment and fuel.

Sometimes if I’ve felt illness coming on, I will sort of meditate and focus on the elements of my immune system, “watching” them seeking out the illness (cold virus, etc) and eliminating it.

As I’m doing these things I’m “talking” to my body, each muscle, organ, and even cell, telling them that we’re a kind of team. We all work together. I tell them I will give them what they want. I will help them be as useful as possible. I will help them feel the pleasure of being needed and purposeful.

I certainly don’t do this every single second of every activity, but I try to as much and as often as I can. I can say each activity I focus and “talk” to my body like this on gives me an incredibly deep sense of awareness, satisfaction, and pleasure. Sometimes I get the sense of my body thanking me for the attention and awareness of its needs.

Am I alone in this or do others do this to some varying degree? I’d be interested to hear.