How Tame Are You?
2013
The mind works tirelessly to keep us in line. It talks to us, ceaselessly chattering. It tells us we’re good or we’re bad or we’re right or we’re wrong, we’re gorgeous or we’re hideous, we’re wonderful or we’re worthless. Sometimes it tells us all these things within the span of a single moment.
It gives us all this conflicting information because it’s instantly reactive, like a startled cat. It doesn’t always understand exactly why it’s threatened, and it often reacts before it can even find out, to keep us safe and protected.
There are adaptive reasons for all this, of course, and our mind is to thank for our survival. Its understanding of how to behave has helped keep us alive and fitting into our families, schools, culture. It has analyzed our world and come to understand what’s expected of us, then programmed itself to keep repeating all the messages it deems necessary to help us survive.
Problem is, many of these messages are very outdated. Or, at the very least, could use some reinspection.
The mind is often right that we can’t just, for example, jump up in the middle of class to go play outside in the dirt. But we can also use these opportunities to gently challenge these ideas by asking questions: Why not? If not now, when? Where? Is there a place where this could be allowed, indulged? If not, why not?
Thoughts are merely thoughts, after all, and not problematic when they’re recognized as such. It’s when we unquestioningly believe them to be true that we run into difficulty, because they’re so often obsolete ideas suited to situations that haven’t been relevant for years, or even decades.
A main function of the mind is to control the body, which is also essential. After all, we need to wait sometimes to eat, to sleep, to use the bathroom, and the mind helps the body manage that.
But because the body also has important urges and needs, it’s necessary to let it have its say, to find a way to do what it wants to do. The body has a different kind of intelligence than the mind does, with messages that are just as vital for the full living of our lives. We’re taught to ignore our bodies, to push them down, to tame them. But no animal–and your body is an animal–can ever be fully tamed. Its natural way of operating is to move, to open, to vocalize, to take its place in space, and it must do that. It must.
To think our bodies can or should be wholly tamed is a dangerous and pernicious notion. Our bodies are treasure troves of information and understanding, just waiting to be accessed. To close ourselves off from their messages is to squander one of the greatest gifts of being alive.
Where have you tamed yourself, and where might you open up? Where could you listen more deeply? What might you hear if you did?