I have always been good at school. I have this ability to understand what is expected of me and to adapt to it. Until now, this has served me, and very often not.
These days, I notice that society expects me to be healthy. May I do everything in my power to live as long as possible.
Meat once a week maximum, the same for fish, because it’s full of mercury, not too much tofu, it’s full of soy, proteins, but fiber and carbohydrates too, exercise all every day, but not every day, because you have to give the body time to recover, a glass of wine a week, no more, no cold meats, that gives you cancer, eight hours of sleep a night, turmeric, garlic, water, lots of water!
And unconsciously, for fear of being inadequate, I comply. I painfully try to follow these contradictory injunctions and, inevitably and obviously, I fail. I fail, I feel guilty and I maintain this belief that I will die young because of me. You could most certainly say that I live in fear.
Except that (fortunately) a little voice tells me that I’m on the wrong track.
Isn’t health a tool rather than an end? Shouldn’t we want health to live an intense and exciting life? To venture, fall, get up, drink, eat, laugh, cry, play, dance, fall in love, dare?
Let’s take care of ourselves. But let’s not forget why we do it. Risk is consubstantial with life. By rebuffing him, all we risk is living a long and unhappy life.