|Posing for the camera.|
Ever really think about that? Inside each of us is a skeleton. Just walking around. Getting the mail. Squeezing oranges. Holding the remote. Doodling. Pressing on the gas. Chewing its non-existent nails. Dancing.
Don’t be afraid but I’m 81% sure what I’m talking about here is pretty deep science. Let me explain. To begin, I should introduce my Jr. High Science teacher. One day, she stood in front of a group of typical young teens obsessed with themselves and each other and said the word “hypothesis.” And I actually heard her. She said something like, “Make a statement and prove it right or prove it wrong.” Most likely she outlined the entire scientific method but I remained hooked on that word. Hypothesis? Soon I was testing things, not scientific things necessarily but “life” things. Like interacting with girls and the speed limit for example. That concept challenged my comfort zone.
And that’s brings me closer to my point. I forgot about my skeleton for a while. I forgot. Seeing an actually skeleton again, talking with a physiotherapist about how bone and muscle work together, I felt my skeleton again and I began to feel different and I began to wonder. My hypothesis? I’ve been taking my skeleton for granted. And I think my skeleton is peeved.
Our skeletons are the reason we’re not blobs. Think about that. Imagine us without skeletons, flapping around morphing into fluidish shapes as we mow our lawns, like big amoebas with tattoos. Gravity would watch us on YouTube and snicker. So what am I saying? If I don’t prove I have a skeleton, I’m disproving it; therefore, I’m a blob. If I don’t prove I’m alive, I’m disproving it; therefore, I’m wasting time.
1. [State hypothesis.] What do I want to do now?
2. [Prove it.] Take a step in that direction because it’s not too late.
3. [Or disprove it.] Until it is. (Do you really want to be that guy?)