« A Peace of Mind in a Body at War »

Body is a battleground.  As I write this and as you read this, trillions of trigger-happy white blood cells patrol our flesh on the lookout for alien intruders.  Each moment, each second our immune systems carry out uncompromising physiological crusades.  So how ironic it is that we - the Battlegrounds-at-Large - aspire to breathe in peace!  We seem to aim for the paradoxical goal: for a peace of mind in a body at war.  

But there is an even deeper level to this irony: we seem to have become utterly immune to the mercilessly bellicose mechanics of our existence - we kill to live.  Indeed, each one of us is a raging one-hundred-year micro-war of self-defense, mindlessly righteous about this somatic patriotism.  

Each one of us - each psycho-physiological Napoleon that is reading this - is one's own unwitnessed Mahabharata epic, one's own moment-by-moment body-mind battle for Stalingrad, and, eventually, one's own Waterloo of psycho-physiological demise.  

All wars - social or somatic - come to an end.  Consider this thought a bugle call of peace.  Good morning to you, Wars of Soma*.  

*Soma - Greek for "body"