Self-maintenance (for human beings)
Cars are mechanical machines. We can be thought as biological machines.
Cars need fuel (of some kind, depending on the car). We need food (to each their own, depending on the human).
Cars need maintenance. And so do we.
Sometimes, the issue is so blatant and critical that the car can’t operate.
Here’s a few examples: the wheel may be stuck, the gearbox won’t let you change gears, the battery is dead, there is no fuel, or the tyres are all flat.
Keeping on with the analogy: for humans this may be a bone fracture, high fever, or even simply not having slept for 42 hours straight.
Other times, the oil level is low. Then, the driver has two choices:
- Stop right there and refill the oil.
- “Eh, I’ll do it later (maybe).”
Yes, sometimes we can hang on a little bit and postpone the maintenance. But push a little too far, and we’ll end up with a blatant and critical issue.
The human analogy to a broken-down car in the highway would be a debilitating illness or an emotional meltdown at a stressful time in our life.
I have often been the second kind of driver, and sometimes still am – but now I can see clearly why that’s a mistake.
Even today, in many places – case in point, the South of Italy – mental health is still an obscure concept.
I grew up in a culture where if you’re physically healthy, you have no excuses. Get up and do the thing, or else you’re just lazy.
But this is just like never stopping to check the oil. Yes, maybe today you’ll pull through. Maybe tomorrow as well.
Then, suddenly your car breaks down. Maybe at the worst time ever. But now you can no longer postpone maintenance. And you’ll have to pay more for it.
Prevention is better than treatment. But it’s also trickier to pull off, if we live under the illusion that our biological machine will never break down.
Here’s a few interesting questions:
- When do I need to refill the oil?
- When is the best time to do it?
- How much oil can I fill?
- How long will it last?
- How low is it now?
These are all for ourselves to assess and answer. Nobody else can tell.
Each car is different and requires different levels of maintenance.
(Of course the same could be said for websites, houses, and surely many other things. I picked this example, but if you come up with something else and care to write your thoughts down, I’d like to read that. Please send it my way.)
This morning I was feeling anxious. I had things to do. Of course. We all always have. And these things are still waiting for me.
But I know myself (or at least I try to get to know myself), and I know that if I had kept going I would have ended up with no metaphorical oil left at all.
I just had to sit down and stop. Stop doing stuff, and even more stop thinking about stuff.
(Incidentally, my mind likes to be active about anything and thought some of this post while I was just trying to get it back to the present moment.)
Anyhow, meditation seems to work for me. My restlessness slowly faded away. After meditating I felt better, calmer, more relaxed.
How long should you meditate? 15 minutes? 30? 60? 2 minutes? 2 hours?
Should you even meditate at all? Maybe you should take a walk in the park instead? Maybe you should just grind a little bit more, head down?
Again, only you can answer all these questions for yourself.
(By the way, I was tempted to explore the topic of meditation, but I’m running low on time – and also I don’t want to go off on a tangent.)
So, what happened this morning?
Not only I decided to stop and attend to my own biological machine, but I also realized I could spare some extra time to write this post.
It’s a nice reminder that most things are not a priority.
Rather than getting carried away by the feeling I must do something, I can be mindful that the world won’t stop spinning if I don’t do it. I have a choice.
This morning, I did something I do very rarely: give priority to myself, in the face of all errands and chores, because living is urgent.
If I don’t take time for self-maintenance by my own choice, who knows where and when my biological machine will break down and I’ll be forced to stay put.
Better safe than sorry. Prevention is better than treatment.
Self-maintenance is much better than random breakdowns.