“The average human being spends three years of life going to the toilet, though the average human being with no physical toilet to go to probably does his or her best to spend less. It is a human behavior that is as revealing as any other about human nature, but only if it can be released from the social straitjacket of nicety.”
I have some of my best “lightbulb moments” when I’m sat on the toilet. Seriously. Especially at work. The toilets in our building are always the warmest rooms in the place. I admit I have one cubicle I prefer over the other however I am not a hoverer and I no longer care if the person in the next cubicle can hear the splish splash (or rumble) of my body evacuating its waste matter, This means that going to the toilet acts more like a “time out” from the constant hum of an open-plan office, as well as the obvious physical relief of answering the call of nature. Whilst I am sat there I often mull over what I have been working on and then go back to my desk having cracked a plan (not the pan) for how to approach the task I am working on. Sometimes I even managed to work out the solution to an issue I might have been struggling with hours…
Today it even acted as inspiration for this post.
You see, as I sat there taking my post-lunch dump I considered just how satisfying it feels to do so. I don’t mean in any kind of kinky way (behave yourself), but just through the release of pressure and the feeling of “deflating” as my insides do their job and get rid of the useless stuff that I have consumed. That got me thinking about just how much our bodies can actually provide us with a sense of joy. Leaving aside anything sexual have you never noticed what a relief it is to have a really good fart, or burp, or poo, or yawn or stretch….?
The latter has to be one of my favourites, there is something incredibly satisfying to letting my natural reflexes take over and just s t r e t c h i n g… No wonder cats do it so much.
It also reminded me of a project my parents were involved in, back when I was a teenager and I was involved with raising money for.
Now for a large part of my life my parents worked with people (children and adults) who have varying degrees of learning disability. The project that they were involved in at that point was to build a “soft-play” room for a group of disabled adults who were at a particular day centre. These folks were the most severely learning disabled at the centre. Some of these people were in wheelchairs, maybe having to wear adult diapers, and most couldn’t communicate apart from shrieks, giggles, grunts and moans. I spent a lot of time with this particular group as I grew up. I was a little scared of them (which my Dad said was fine: sometimes when some people with communication issues or learning difficulties get stressed they can only express that with violence) but also (especially when I was younger) enjoyed spending time with them. I would run around and play games with the ones who could. What’s not to enjoy?
So, this room that was being developed; well it had items in it that hung off ceilings, that could be laid on, stood on – you know the drill. This particular company that installed what we raised money for could also put noises put into the equipment for when they were pushed etc. They were used to programming cute phrases, giggles, that kind of thing into this gear. The kit that was installed at the centre had some of that stuff but my Dad had one special request which raised a few eyebrows.
He asked for a couple of the pads to make fart and burp noises.
Now, obviously, it made everyone who used it smile (including the staff). Farting and burping are quite funny really, especially when you have the mental age of a three year old. But it went deeper than that. The staff at the centre knew just how much pleasure breaking wind could bring to some of the most profoundly disabled of those in their care. It wasn’t just about the amusement factor, this was something that could alleviate pain and make life a little less uncomfortable. It is/was a noise that meant something good had happened.
That room was installed coming up on 25 years ago now, but that explanation of the joy of a fart will never leave me. I realise now that it’s not just farts, my body is pretty cunning really. It’s worth slowing down a little at times to let it do it’s thing. It may be making me do weird contortions or creating a stink but it’s also looking after me too. It’s reducing the stress on my body and mind.
Unfortunately for me, the cat’s bum has been reducing stress next to me all evening. Ho hum.
This my “Day 2” post for #NaBloPoMo2015 – 30 consecutive days of blog posts. I’ll be back again tomorrow
Unless the cat has managed to gas me first.