Our dynamic self-equilibrating bodies Lightly, a little lively (Leggiero; allegretto)
It is easy to overlook just how remarkable our bodies are, either because we just take them for granted, or because we have become so used to things going wrong with them, or their not meeting our (perhaps unrealistic) expectations of what we think they should be like, or that we just can’t quite get them to do what we want them to do. It might be better for us when and if science and technology make cyborgs out of us (and that seems to be the secret dream of almost anyone working in the technology side of health care).
To gain a different perspective on this, think about the size of photons (not very large, at all), and of atoms and molecules (slightly larger, but still pretty small), and then about single-celled life forms, which are still small, but we have all at least seen some of them under everyday microscopes.
Now think about the relationships that even a single-celled organism has with its environment, and how many things can happen that would result in its decline or death, and raise that by a good many powers of 10 to get to the complexity of the human body and our behavior, and the number and complexity of our relationships with our environment(s). Keeping in mind how complex our bodes and our behavior are, try to imagine what has to go on in our brains just to remain alive and at rest, and how much more is involved in deciding to set our bodies in motion in given ways and to manage that motion, and all the while taking in sense stimuli relating to our external and internal environments.
If you think that our bodies are not fine-tuned, or not capable of being fine-tuned, think of what has to take place, say, in the brain of a falcon, once it has seen a pigeon (or whatever) and to then intercept that pigeon’s flight path, plus evasive maneuvers, at speeds of 70 miles an hour or more, and to not only make the intercept, but also to not spin out of control after the impact.
We are from that same tradition. How much different is that from what millions of us do in an given week, punching a small white ball on trajectories towards only somewhat larger holes in the ground, or what somewhat fewer of us do in operating rooms.
Let me offer you one more perspective. Suppose that in order to use your computer, you had to write your own instructions for everything you wanted to do with it, and you had to do it in “machine language”, meaning that you had to write an instruction turning every “gate” (and there would be very many of them in a modern computer) either “on” or “off”. This might take a little while.
Now imagine having to consciously tell every muscle in your body that needed to be told whether to contract or relax, or do nothing, in order to keep yourself stable, cooled, heated, oxygenated, defended against foreign bodies, and what have you, and every synapse to fire or not fire. I don’t think that you would not have much time left over to do the things that you would rather be doing.
What our bodies do without this conscious intervention is the result of the most exquisitely detailed refinements of some half a billion years or more of the evolution of complex life forms, with our vision perhaps being the most exquisite of all, being able make discriminations down to the photon level.
While I enjoy company this weekend, just think about what it takes for a sack (of varying shape and size) of soft tissues and water, with a calcified skeletal interior framework and copious numbers of filaments and conduits, with other kinds of fluids, and nerve signals, in motion or action at all times, taking in, shall we say trillions?, of stimuli from its internal and external environments, to work at all. (On a 2500 calorie diet, our average heat output has been calculated to be about that of a 100 watt light bulb.) And this all grew from very small physical particles (in reality, “bound” energy) and more or less “free” energy. How amazing is that? Take a few moments during some quiet time this weekend and think about our bodies in this light.
Also, please don’t complain to me about how many hours of practice it takes to play the Moonlight Sonata as well as you (or someone else) would like for it to be played; these more or less consciously willed (I am not going to call them “free” will, because that is a misnomer fraught with all kinds of difficulties and misunderstandings) acts of ours are what truly separate us from most other life forms.
This is all I have for this week. My filaments and conduits and fluids (and synapses) are demanding some down time. Have a good weekend!
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