This month I resigned from my job. Not because it’s a bad
job; I resigned based on a visceral feeling that it’s time to move on. It’s
not the first time I’ve walked away from my life. After thirteen years as a
firefighter-paramedic, I experienced the same sense of restlessness, that
consuming need for a new direction. So I’ve cleaned out my office, sold my
house, and will now venture forth into the unknown.
Fortunately, I’m not without means. I have my fire
department pension and a nice little nest egg put aside. A life-threatening
allergy to small children has enabled me to skirt parenthood, so I’m in pretty
good shape financially. Therefore, I’m chucking this life to do a bit of
wandering and see what pops up on the horizon.
Moving is always a pain. I’m determined to scale back my
life and rid myself of unnecessary baggage; stuff I’ve accumulated over the
years that has lain dormant and untouched. I’ve even started parceling off my
library, the ultimate sacrifice for any self-respecting nerd.
My impending move got me thinking about movement in general.
So in an effort to divert my thoughts from packing, I want to
discuss the amazing ways our bodies move us through life.
Imagine reaching for a cup of coffee (or in my case, a glass of
gin), taking a bite of a sandwich, or brushing your teeth. These actions –
reaching, lifting, connecting and returning – are accomplished with barely a
thought. We take for granted that our bones and muscles will work in concert to
achieve the desired action, which is all the more apparent when we suffer an
injury that limits movement.
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There are various types of body movement. Flexion is just as
it sounds: bending at a joint, as when you bring your foot up to the back of
your thigh. Extension is the opposite – a straightening of the joint – as you
return your foot to the ground. The movement of your limbs away from your body
is known as abduction (as when you reach to hang something up); adduction
involves moving them towards your midline. And finally, circumduction is the
movement of a limb around a joint, as when you swing your arm in a wide
circle.
But these intentional movements don’t just happen, even
though many of them seem automatic. Movement originates in the central nervous system, cromprised of the brain and spinal cord, where lightning-fast impulses race along motor
neurons. These impulses cause your body to react via the peripheral nervous system, which includes your arms,
hands, legs and feet. Sensory nerves deliver information back to your brain
and it’s this beautiful synchronization between motor and sensation that
enables movement. Think about it… every single movement you make, from the
smallest (batting your eyes) to the grandest (jumping a puddle) is carried out through the communication between brain, nerves, bones, and muscles. It’s truly
mind-boggling.
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The body’s movements are
wondrous to behold. They keep us alive, physiologically and emotionally. As we
run or dance or embrace, our hearts are beating, our blood is coursing, and our
breath is rushing in. Imagine your life without movement. Think about those who
lose their ability through accident or disease; those stoic individuals who
live on in the face of paralysis. They are truly the face of courage.
So as you move through your day, think about this wonderful
gift and take none of it for granted. Movement propels us forward, and is graciously complemented by the leaps and bounds of our
minds.
I leave you with this quote from philosopher Allan Bloom:
I leave you with this quote from philosopher Allan Bloom:
See you next Friday.