The Body Never Forgets





Morf Morford

 



© Copyright 2024 by Morf Morford




Image by Marc Pascual from Pixabay
Image by Marc Pascual from Pixabay

Ever notice how toddlers fall and get back up right away?

When we are learning to walk, falling and tumbling over is part of the learning process. and for little ones, falling doesn’t get in the way of learning.

In the vast majority of cases, the injuries are minimal to non-existent and the mastery of the skill, whether it be running, riding a bicycle or the ultimate basic skill of balance and walking is resumed.

But the body never forgets.

If the experience is harsh or embarrassing or memorable enough, the body – or the mind – will never forget.

And of course, a bump or a bruise will be expected – and, for most of us, (especially boys) near infinite.

But those larger, more severe encounters – with forces of nature (like gravity) or certain creatures or dynamics (like loud noises or heights) will, or at least may, leave a lasting impact.

As we reach certain age points, our bodies remind us of what our developing bodies (and minds) encountered along the way to adulthood.

Many years ago, I worked with a man who had a career helping military veterans. He told me that soldiers that had encountered extreme combat died at age 68.

The body, he told me, was strong enough to withstand or cope with the trauma of near-total physical threat only for so long – and statistically, the median age of death of combat-experienced soldiers was 68.

My own father, a veteran of World War II, having been at the invasion of Normandy on D-Day and at the key battle called “The battle of the bulge” died just a few months before his 68th birthday.

More specific bodily assault – whether abuse or injuries – leave their own perpetual impacts.

The human body, it seems, can only absorb so much fear, terror and trauma.

In a very real, almost measurable sense, it is a miracle many of us survive.

Those “injuries” serious or not, teach us, correctly or not, how the world works.

Our bodies and minds compensate or react – not always appropriately – when we encounter similar (or relatively similar) experiences.

Consider fear of heights, or dogs, or the dark, or a thousand other things that may paralyze us. Somewhere our minds and physical bodies hold a tangible, even literal muscle memory, of the encounter.

Being a human (or even an animal, as any owner of a puppy or kitten knows all too well) is a bumpy experience – one dense with falls and collisions of all kinds– and rejection, and sometimes outright neglect or abuse.

And yes, for every one of us, the body never forgets.

This corporeal memory is not always negative of course.

Hazard is not necessarily accompanied by a legacy of shame or pain.

Sometimes the body learns the opposite lesson.

Saved by a Black-berry bush

In my conscious memory, I had completely forgotten an experience I had as a young adult.

I was on a hike on a low altitude hillside, one of those hills common in the Pacific Northwest, on a trail that had been carved against the side of a steep cliff. In other words, it was a pathway with a sheer cliff in both directions – up and down.

It was several hundred feet both ways (up and down) and a fall would have been near-certain death.

And, thanks to a loose rock or a misstep, I did fall. About ten feet.

I was caught by a blackberry bush that had clung to the side of the cliff.

Blackberry bushes are not native, in fact they are extremely invasive and grow where almost nothing else will – like cliffsides.

And I will be forever thankful for that particular blackberry bush.

Blackberries, as you may know, are covered in thorns. They scraped me but held me securely.

I was tangled in the brambles and thorns, hanging upside down, part way down about a 90-degree grade. I was suspended an arm’s length above the ground with my feet above me.

The only way out was down. I wasn’t hurt, but pulling myself free from the thorns with nothing to push against was impossible, and pulling out of them only meant submitting myself to the full force of gravity – and the inevitable drop.

My hiking companion caught up to me, and when he (eventually) stopped laughing, reached down and pulled me up.

Without him, I would still be hanging there...

In some situations, friends and unexpected helpers, like blackberry brambles, can be life savers.

And yes, even in those kinds of situations, the body never forgets.

The 10-90 rule

There’s an old saying that life is 10% what happens to us and 90% how we respond to it.


In other words, 90% of our energy/reactions/emotions (and those that emanate from others) that we encounter/embrace/flounder in are free-floating, largely-arbitrary, subjective reactions – and they are of our own creation.

For the reaction to be greater than the event that initiated it is strange indeed. There is absolutely no necessary proportionality to how we respond to life’s assaults and injuries. Some, you may have noticed, grossly overreact and make noise, drama and hysteria over the barest slight.

Others carry major injuries as the dues one pays to earthly existence.

I attempt to make my responses to life’s insults as minimal as possible, with the intent to make the difficult situation, at minimum, not worse.

Others in my life seem to search for bumps and bruises to use as the petri dish for personal rants, raves, tirades and public pouting.

And, in what could only be a case of mass infantilization, public and political figures use such strategies to rouse their supporters to acts of resentment and revenge far beyond any actual offense or act. Or threat.

Rage, self-pity and a sense of being a perpetual victim must be invigorating – and bonding – and addictive.

Who needs personal pain or trauma when “enemies” and threats can be manufactured and multiplied by social media and ever-louder and more vociferous voices?

Crowds seem to gather around these spectacles – to participate or just to watch.

Human nature in what could be called a perpetual red-zone, heightened state of rage and arousal is perpetually entertaining – but has certainly led, if not driven, a variety of empires to untimely, unnecessary and (almost always) violent conclusions.

But these public tantrums and victim-fests in the name of politics – or religion -seem to be effective. And popular.

They make good sound bites. And the emotional bonding at these rallies must be profound and memorable.

But the body, whether physical or social, never forgets.

An affront or wound is embedded in the body politic as it is in the individual body. And like a sliver under one’s skin, left unchecked it becomes infected and even more toxic and inflammatory.

Physically or socially, we may never recognize these wounds consciously, but they never go away.

The real or imagined (or idealized) intended grandeur and conquest (and those who stood in the way) are, to some degree, never fully forgotten.

The near-gravitational pull to reclaim a nation’s one-time (actual or romanticized) “greatness” seems to be irresistible to some.

Centuries, even millennia may pass, but the ever-elusive search for a restored kingdom or empire may never lose its appeal.

In other words, if you want to sell a product, or get yourself elected (which are kind of the same thing in terms of marketing strategies in our era) appeal to lost honor, wounded pride and a divinely framed destiny – and of course, a roster of easily identified “enemies” to demonize as the villains who keep us from fulfilling our divinely ordained destiny.

After all, the body, political or individual, never forgets.



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