Complexities

I listen to the thudding of my heart for several minutes, marveling at my body's complexities.

I work to clear my mind, focusing solely on the blood pumping from my heart and on the air entering my lungs.

I work to push away the guilt, the fatigue, the aches.

The in and out slows.

I have control over my body.

Or sometimes I think I do. 

The blood pumping through my vessels, the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide taking place at a rate and scale I cannot comprehend.

Despite my relative ignorance, I work to control what I can.

I empty my mind, which in turn slows my breathing and heart rate.

At its roots, it is all connected.

The neurons and blood cells, the heart muscle and diaphragm.

I am in awe of its complexity.

My life, which I am fond of calling complicated, pales in comparison.

No matter how much I complain about it, my body is much more in sync, in control, aware of its purpose, than I will ever realize.