Whenever I need a good dose of inspiration, this poem by Thuli Zuma never fails. It reminds me I am a human being just like anyone else, and that we are all living miracles.
I visualize the 90 trillion cells hard at work inside my body, collectively holding more intelligence than any doctor or scientist may ever comprehend. I picture them bustling up and down the streets of my veins, rushing off to repair a body part that has broken down, or to extinguish yet another fire kindled by accident.
They are hard at work even — no, especially — when I am asleep, and I don’t have much of a clue as to the expanse of their efforts.
For example, if you cut your finger, observe its healing process over a few days and really think about it; it’s downright amazing what many of our bodies can do without any conscious knowledge or extra effort.
So yes, despite being ill all the time, and despite the rogue cells within me that send off constant false alarms, I am still in awe of the intelligence contained within my body. It is often trying its very best — more than you can imagine.
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