The Amazing Machine

Last week my cousin sent around a video of her beautiful baby girl taking a very determined crawl across the floor. It made me smile, not just because she is a captivating little one, but because that grin of accomplishment upon reaching her goal was infectious. It is something, isn’t it? To see infants take those first movements on their own. To realize the power of their limbs to get from point A to point B. To start to work their little brains with the knowledge they can control the body beneath it.

I was sick for the earlier part of this week. It wasn’t as debilitating as some bouts with the cold/flu season. But it did remind me what it is to function at less than 100%. To feel that frustrating limitation of my body. To not be able to find the determination to crawl my way across the room. But, well, I’m back at work lamenting the fact I had a few days of incompetence.

The body is an amazing machine. I never took much interest in biology or physiology in school. I was put off by the formaldehyde and egg sack of the frog we dissected in tenth grade. Never much cared for organs after that. Or blood. Ew. Blood. And yet… I spent five years telling children grizzly stories of jousts gone awry or the difference between slashing and crushing weapons. Somehow, the destruction was easier to stomach than the miracle of function.

Maybe it’s a sign of age… a step closer to the fallibility of my mortal being. Maybe it’s this book I’ve been writing and my attempt to incorporate a sliver of realism to the myth. Or maybe… maybe I’ve finally shifted my focus to care how the body works and heals itself more than the grisly entertainment of its eradication.

I am getting older. But, I still heal rapidly enough to be back at work after a day and a half on the couch. I can walk my three miles around the neighborhood and not need a hand to hold my balance. I am so capable, empowered with better skill than that little girl. And yet, she teaches me that each step is an important movement. Every little step. No matter how far away the goal. Every little step brings me closer to where I want to go.