Body

My wife and I spent the weekend in a very comfortable, well known motel property. I once worked in development for a hotel chain so I noticed a lot of recent innovations and details for pampering guests. The bed and bedding were especially well researched and executed. Must be how it would feel if I could go back into the womb.
I chuckled when I realized that the marketing arm of the organization had capitalized on all those “guest comfort items” and actually listed each for sale at an appropriate (to them) price. One item especially caught my eye since the mattress set and other furnishing were way out of my league. That was a warm faux down comforter at a bit less than $200. Even though the English language is not my strong point, it struck me as a misnomer. Yes, I was warm in the comforter but it wasn’t warm at all until my body came in contact with it. It wasn’t the comforter that provided the warmth.
Although I seldom think about it, my body has been providing consistent slightly less than one hundred degree warmth for as long as I can remember. Yes, a blanket or coat may capture the heat, but it is my body that provides the warmth. Wonder if it feels slighted and jealous when the eyes and ears tell stories of advertised “warm” items that are dependent on the body’s amazing but unheralded heating capabilities. That, in turn, took me to the approximately 2,244,312,000 times that my, slightly worse for the wear, heart has pumped. (Sounds like a national debt type of figure, doesn’t it?) From there, I ventured on to the often neglected sensory body parts that provide so much joy. Sniffles and itches are not a true picture in proper perspective of that protrusion called a nose. Ears are not just a terminal for ornaments. The picture goes on and on.
Makes me a bit embarrassed to realize how little I think about my amazingly created body except in a complaining or regretful manner. In fact, bodies that aren’t exceptional in some manner are not things that I think about. Hair, nails, pearly whites, hourglass figures, and six pack abs are the focus these days. If my body wasn’t the only one available to me, I’d probably consider it a truly disposable commodity. I’d replace or upgrade it frequently like some folks do their cars. Sagging and slightly used isn’t glamorous but perhaps my body is one of those gifts I’ve taken for granted for too long. Thank heavens I wasn’t the one who designed or chose it. I would have made it far more stylish and glamorous at the expense of really important unheralded characteristics that continue to keep me alive. Perhaps it isn’t the only “faithful and true” thing that I’ve taken for granted in my day to day living.