Remember when selfish
genes were widely discussed? I don’t
want to talk about scientific controversy, publicity, evolution, or any of that
stuff. It’s just that a long time ago I
read a critical remark about the concept of selfish genes that was, whether or
not it was accurate, funny enough that I still remember it. The critic said that it made as much sense to
talk about sex-crazed prime numbers. I
imagined 7 and 23 hanging out in a bar, trolling for dates, chain-smoking,
hooking up in back alleys, intent on making more and more numbers.
Whether or not numbers
are out there procreating, we sure have a lot of them around. And some of them could be said to have a
tyrannical streak. I will limit myself
to two (prime!) examples:
1.
That number on the scale. Whatever
it is, it is not the sum of our self-worth.
It, and its relatives, including the number on the tag in our pants, do
not get to tell us that we are wonderful or worthless. The number may get bigger or smaller. We remain uniquely valuable. We may want the number to be different for
any number of reasons and we may be taking appropriate steps to make that
happen, but we will not be inherently better when the number changes in the
direction we desire, nor inherently worse if it goes the other way.
2.
The gym numbers. Ten reps are not more magic
than nine or eleven. We are not better
humans if we bench press a lovely round number of pounds. If it is best for us to do seven reps with
22.5 pound dumbbells, that is what we should do and then we should feel appropriate
pride in our accomplishment.
Numbers are useful, but
not the most important things. We do
better when we treat ourselves with love.
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