I love my body like I love my cars...all the while meticulously keeping the scheduled maintenance and cursing the unscheduled repairs and tune ups. It’s a machine, albeit a bio-electric pulse engine interface-device, and does require a great deal of tweaking in order to keep it “in tune” and humming along. It responds to scientific principle, even in its malfunctions. I notice variations in its performance when I decide to fill it with low test fuel, drive it too hard, and refuse to check the vital fluids or haul too much in the trunk.
The hard miles, wear and tear, misuse and negligence show up with time. That’s for sure. Would I trade it? Nope. I have grown accustomed to it, like the clunky 62 Chevy in the driveway. Its not new and shiny, but it has some definite sentimental value and still has a bit of chrome. It’s retro-sexy for sure.
Most importantly… it’s not me. Just a conveyance I am using until I am relieved of duty here in the material world. So, I top off the fluids, tune it up each spring, keep good fuel in it, listen with real attention to the squeaks, rattles and sputters and thank the Maker each and everyday that it didn’t break down West of the tracks at 3AM.