Before I begin, let me point out that I am not a theologian, nor am I well versed in the psychosomatic phenomena of human nature. I don't really know the ins and outs of what follows, but I have gathered some facts that lead to an interesting question about the nature of man.
When Adam and Eve sinned they lost all the super- and preternatural powers God gave them, and their natural abilities were greatly weakened. Not only did mankind become mortal, susceptible to pain, and prone to countless diseases and defects, but its physical and mental powers were greatly handicapped in themselves. The strength of the body is comparably poor to the pre-fall human, as is the integrity of the soul--the intellect and will.
Now I ask, how much of our bodily weakness stems from the weakness of the soul? Man is a union of matter and spirit, the body and soul. The soul is the ultimate principle of life and therefore the "first act" of all powers, the root of all human abilities. The weakening of the soul, then, would cause a weakening of physical powers; however, the body itself can be (and was, through sin) independently weakened as well. The question is, how much weakness is in which?
I cannot jump out of a two-story window and keep running. I would categorize that as weakness of the body, for I could will myself to do it and would still be injured. But what if a person were invincibly determined, and their will was set undivided to performing such an action?
The curious fact is that this has actually happened. A comedian named Mike Birbiglia tells a story of doing it in his sleep due to a neurological disorder. He explains that he has a condition that is essentially a lack of a chemical produced by the brain that paralyzes the body during sleep. What I find most interesting is his mentioning that people with this disorder are known to do things that would ordinarily be impossible. For example, Mike dreamt that a missile was headed at him while he stayed in a hotel, so he promptly leaped out of his window--which was closed and on the second floor. He crashed through the pane and fell onto the front lawn, stumbled, and then kept running! He took himself to the hospital after waking up, and the doctor was surprised he was alive.
This scenario suggests the reality of the dangerous idea that "it's all in the mind." Certainly the body has limitations; so how can this be explained? Perhaps in the same way many desperate feats of superhuman strength have: the miracle of an adrenaline rush. Adrenaline enhances muscular ability (among other things) so that a person can confront extreme situations; it's the same response that lets many animals stay alive in the wild. But does it allow the muscles to be exercised beyond their limit, or merely reach their full potential? How would this function if the body were not in a weakened state from original sin? And where would the mind come into play, in that case? All the current evidence says that the mind is barely involved; it is a reflex that comes without bidding. However, it can be controlled in the way of limiting or preventing it; adrenaline tends to come hand in hand with fear or excitement, and certain military personnel are trained to suppress these so that their concentration isn't impaired.
All of this seems to say that the body is capable through hormonal enhancement, and the will has little to do with it. By the same token, though, it is probably only meant for the occasional circumstances in which it has been known to be naturally put to use. In the long run our muscles are not built for great strain, as evidenced by the destruction of prolonged steroid use; athletes who take steroids often do what their bodies are simply not made for, and though the steroids make it possible, it is seriously damaging.
There is proof, then, that the body has limitations, and exceeding them is not altogether healthy. Just how limited the body is is still a mystery. A friend of mine was recently talking about an Indian (I think) who learned to psychologically transcend nature. He could go weeks without food and survive in harsh climates because he simply didn't allow it to affect him. This obviously screams, "Legend!" but there is some degree of truth to it. Often we can withstand more than we think, either because we make ourselves or we have to.
I realize I haven't made any conclusions here, but it's definitely some food for thought. Is the key to ability more in the mind or in the body? Someday I'd like to know.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
My experiences indicate that the body is capable of doing a lot more in extremity than it normally would like to -- that its comfort zone of sorts is notably smaller than actual extreme physical limitations. Some people stretch this "comfort zone" with skill and practice -- it's not just by paying attention that Sean White pulls off snowboard leaps that boggle our minds. On the other hand, the mind is not normally prepared to call on the body to exceed its "comfort zone", not only because of our laziness engendering a mental/pleasurable comfort zone we don't want to bother straying from, but because the body generally won't even tell the mind it can do more. The mind, then, has to be stretched to command the body to stretch. Ultimately, however, I don't think our bodies are capable of taking anywhere near the type of pounding some people try to give them for a time -- it's why I worry about a friend who keeps herself in shape but doesn't really take care of herself, for example.
As for the soul, it's obvious enough that on the general level degeneration of any aspect of the soul (mind, body inasmuch as the soul informs the body) will have negative repercussions on all other aspects of it, even if not immediately. The trouble is twofold: first, it's not going to be a straight, empirically-measurable effect so much as a general rule, and second, the reverse isn't necessarily true -- there's only so much reforming of the body that can be done by reforming the mind, only so much the mind by the body, and none at all the soul by the body and mind alone.
Going off your example of the Indian, there have been a number of saints (I can't think of any specific ones right now, and this is not a term paper, so I will happily fail to cite my sources) who lived entirely off the Eucharist. There are others who slept very little. If I remember correctly from a DTS session several years ago, John Vianney used to hear confessions for about 18 hours a day, which says to me that he didn't get more than 3 or 4 hours of sleep. (He also used to live off boiled potatoes, which isn't quite the Eucharist but which would certainly require a superhuman effort.)
Post a Comment