《自律養生實踐家之旅274》 身體在想什麼?
《細胞記憶》這本書描述了器官移植後出現的特殊記憶現象:捐贈者的記憶,竟在受贈者身上重現。這不是科學的論述,也不是神學的推演,而是關於「生命進化」的思考。
我們習慣將「記憶」視為大腦的專屬功能,難以想像它與身體其他部位有何關聯。
大腦雖屬於身體的一部分,卻因其思考功能的獨特性,往往與身體被人為的分離開來。我們以為:思考屬於大腦,執行則由身體完成。
然而,移植案例顯示:身體也能記憶,而這些記憶甚至能反向影響大腦。這迫使我們重新思考:記憶其實從來不是大腦的專利,思考也並非僅在大腦進行。
大腦與身體,其實一直是協同共生的關係。
記憶是身體的事,思考也是。身體,是心靈的容器,能接收來自靈魂深處的訊息。所謂「直覺」,正是心靈與身體之間的默契表現。
我們都曾衝動購物,那種瞬間的決定,彷彿來自大腦的一道命令,身體迅速執行,走向櫃檯、掏出錢包。
那麼,要如何讓身體參與真正重要的決策?關鍵在於「深思熟慮」。
當理智駕馭衝動,經過幾天反覆思量後,我們往往會做出截然不同的選擇,這是我個人的體會。
可以這麼說:「身體經常是理智的,大腦則是不理智的慣犯。」而「深思熟慮」就是讓身心靈一同參與決策的過程。
在「自律養生」的實踐中,這是一道關鍵的分水嶺:當我們開始信任身體,就不會再被方法論與教條綁架。然而,當今的環境與知識體系卻引導我們走向對「術」的迷信,反而讓身體失去參與決策的機會。
自詡聰明的大腦,其實攔阻了最有智慧的身體。我們所接受的教育,早已將原本一體的身心切割殆盡。
所以,我們是否可以,現在就一起進入一段「深思熟慮」的片刻?如果讓身體參與決策是我們回歸健康的唯一契機,那麼,我們是否該先明白,身體究竟在想什麼?
我們來看《癌症不是病》這本書的副標題:「它只是身體的療癒機制」。若將癌症視為一場療癒歷程,那麼病患所感受到的不適,就是身體發出的警訊,是為了喚醒那位長期忽略身體訊息的主人。
癌,是身體所使出的殺手鐧,是對不健康生活模式的最強烈警告。
問題在於,許多「主人」根本沒有能力改變。身體,往往只是默默呻吟:「讓我來處理。」
然而,大腦頑固如石,既聽不見身體的吶喊,也無視身體的努力,更別說授權給身體自我修復。
疾病的異常,其實是堆積的結果,是脂肪與組織糾結的表象,連結這一切的核心,是長期未處理的負面情緒。
如果習慣不改、情緒不解,不積極進行停損,一切努力都將枉然。
那麼,身體究竟在想什麼?它在說:「讓我徹底清除這些藏污納垢吧!」它在對大腦呼喊:「你可不可以暫時不吃東西?讓我有時間,好好清理空間?」
身體的運作有其法則,法則就是身體的思考。它追求的,是平衡;而平衡的第一步,就是移除那些不該存在的東西。
「斷捨離」是身體的中心思想,整理完內務後的暢快感、如廁之後的舒暢,全來自身體對大腦發出的讚許。
身體渴望的,是將生活的感受,拉回到身體的感知層面。
「做該做的事」是身體內建的行為準則。在日常生活中,身體不斷提醒我們:有垃圾需要清除,那些不舒服的感受,就是身體想要恢復舒適狀態的強烈需求。
身體不貪心,也不偏心,它會公平分配營養給所有器官,猶如森林中每棵樹木都依循自然法則獲得平等的資源。
當身體感知到失衡,它會適時發出訊號,例如:睡眠的渴望,是回復的力量;疼痛的出現,是警訊的語言。
身體在想什麼?它一直試圖告訴那個執迷不悟的大腦: 「人類所倚賴的治療手段,我早就內建;醫療界投注巨資研發的技術,不如我天生的修復能力。」
身體從未沉默,它不斷低語:「醒醒吧!回家吧!」
(我確實發現,在準備好和等候自然的發生之間,存在著微妙的平衡。)
What Is the Body Thinking?
The book “Past Lives, Future Healing” describes a peculiar phenomenon observed after organ transplants: the donor’s memories seem to resurface in the recipient’s consciousness. This is not a discussion about science or theology—it is a contemplation about the evolution of life itself.
We are used to thinking of “memory” as an exclusive function of the brain, making it difficult to associate memory with any other part of the body. Although the brain is part of the body, its unique role in thinking has long separated it—conceptually and culturally—from the rest of the body. We tend to believe: thought belongs to the brain, and execution is handled by the body.
Yet transplant cases suggest otherwise: the body itself is capable of memory, and these bodily memories can even influence the brain in return. This challenges our long-held assumptions, urging us to reconsider: memory has never been solely the brain’s domain, and thought does not occur only in the brain.
The brain and the body have always been in a symbiotic relationship.
Memory is bodily. So is thought. The body is the vessel of the soul—it receives messages from deep within the spirit. What we call “intuition” is precisely the manifestation of this tacit understanding between the body and the soul.
We’ve all experienced impulsive purchases—those split-second decisions that seem like a command from the brain, carried out swiftly by the body: walking to the counter, pulling out the wallet.
But how can we involve the body in making truly important decisions? The key lies in deliberation.
When reason takes the wheel and we spend a few days deeply reflecting, we often end up making entirely different choices. This is something I’ve personally experienced.
In fact, we might say: “The body is often the rational one, while the brain is the repeat offender of irrationality.” Deliberation, then, is the process of allowing the body, mind, and soul to decide together.
In the practice of Selfasteam , this marks a vital turning point: once we begin trusting the body, we are no longer held hostage by rigid methodologies or dogmas. Yet today’s knowledge systems and societal environment lead us instead toward a blind faith in “techniques,” depriving the body of its rightful place in decision-making.
The brain, proud of its cleverness, has in fact obstructed the wisdom of the body. The education we’ve received has long severed the unity between body and mind.
So, can we pause—right now—and enter a moment of deep reflection?
If allowing the body to participate in decision-making is our only chance to return to health, then shouldn’t we first ask: What is the body thinking?
Let’s consider the subtitle of Cancer Is Not a Disease: It is only the body’s healing mechanism. If we understand cancer as part of a healing process, then the discomfort experienced by the patient is a signal—a wake-up call from the body to the long-neglectful owner.
Cancer is the body’s last resort, the strongest warning against an unhealthy lifestyle.
The real problem is: many “owners” are incapable of change. The body often whispers, “Let me handle this.”
But the brain—stubborn as a rock—refuses to listen to the body’s cry for help, ignores its efforts, and certainly doesn’t grant it the authority to heal itself.
The abnormality we call disease is actually the result of accumulation—a visible tangle of fat, tissue, and stagnation, rooted in long-suppressed emotions.
If we don’t change our habits, don’t resolve our emotional blockages, and don’t take decisive action to stop the damage, all other efforts will be in vain.
So, what is the body thinking?
It is saying: “Let me cleanse these deeply buried toxins once and for all!”
It is pleading with the brain: “Can you stop eating for a while? Give me time and space to do some real cleaning.”
The body operates by its own laws—and those laws are its way of thinking. What it seeks is balance, and the first step toward balance is eliminating what doesn’t belong.
“Decluttering” is the body’s core philosophy. That sense of lightness after tidying up, the relief after a bowel movement—these are the body’s ways of applauding the brain.
What the body longs for is to return the experience of life to the sensory realm of the body itself.
“Doing what must be done” is the body’s built-in behavioral principle. In daily life, the body constantly sends reminders: there is waste to be cleared. Discomfort is simply its urgent request to restore comfort.
The body is neither greedy nor biased—it distributes nutrients fairly to all organs, just as trees in a forest share resources through nature’s law of balance.
When imbalance is perceived, the body sends timely signals: the craving for sleep is the call of restoration; the presence of pain is the language of warning.
What is the body thinking?
It has been trying to tell the brain—stuck in its stubborn ways—that “the healing mechanisms humanity seeks have always existed within me. The technologies that cost billions to develop in the medical world cannot compare to the healing power I was born with.”
The body has never been silent.
It whispers, again and again: “Wake up. Come home.”