You're Only Renting

Have you ever heard someone say, "It's my body, I'll do what I want with it?" I remember saying that to my Mom and Dad when I thought about all the options I had to color, cut, stick, poke and just go ahead and generally maim myself. I actually believed this was my body...that I owned it. Years later I would look in the mirror and think,"Who the hell is that?" After living life a bit, you one day come to realize it's really not your body at all. You don't own it. You're simply renting. You can't change any of it, so it's obviously not yours. I didn't choose this particular nose. And I want to be taller. And what's with this hair? A cowlick for God's sake? Who chooses that? If this were actually MY body, I want in no particular order:

- To be 6' 3"

- The waist of a 13 year-old girl

- 18" Biceps

- Brad Pitt's Chest

- His Wife's Lips

- Hugh Jackman's anything

So, if this isn't really my body at all...then who's is it? Scientists say we descended from apes. And apes are in the monkey family. And if that's true, why didn't we keep the tail? Can you imagine the fun we could have with that? Theologians suggest we are created in God's image. I wonder if God has a pot belly or scoliosis? I know my parents had something to do with it. But how much really? My dad was a steelworker and my mom was a waitress. I can't weld and I can't balance a tray to save my life. I look a bit like both, but mostly nothing like either. I can't imagine anyone could have ever conceived the miracles that happen within our bodies every second of every day. That had to come some from somewhere else.

So, if this is all true...who the heck is our earthly landlord? And would he really be happy with me mangling his creation? Or sticking pins in it? Or posting it on the Internet with Kim Kardashian? Or just plain embarrassing the rest of the human race from which we are all connected? I know if I was a landlord and my tenants painted my house the wrong colors, hammered holes in it all over the place or used it as an opium den (my fathers favorite term, God rest his soul) I'd be pretty P.O'd. I mean doesn't this simply devalue our earthly rental property?

So the next time you think that this body is really yours, think again. Think about how little control you really have over it. Think about how you can't keep your boobs from sagging or your prostate from enlarging. Or that Thanksgiving neck. Or hair that won't grow on your head but happily sprouts out your ears. But most importantly, think about the miracle that allows you to breathe, think, speak, move and feel. Think about how the miracle of modern science only knows about a thousandth of one percent about how any of it really works at all.

Then, think about how really perfect you are...right now...today...just the way you are. And when you come to realize just how true that is, how all of this really has nothing to do with you at all....then take one big breath and exhale. You're doing just fine. Then stop thinking about all of this before you get a headache.