The human body, as anybody half-sentient knows, contains multitudes. It's a United Nations of movable parts that remarkably is usually pretty much in synch. There are times, though, when one little part--like a rebellious small country somewhere we have to consult a map to find--seems to dominate. The last few days, my life has been completely nose-centric. Not knowing exactly what an uncommon cold might be--blowing your ear, perhaps?--I guess I've just been boringly suffering a common cold. Sometime this afternoon, when I realized that since Sunday night I've blown out enough phlegm from my nose to equal my body weight, I thought about that great phrase--cut off your nose to spite your face--and concluded I have nothing against my face. In fact I love my face and hence wanted to cut off my nose to
save my face, my body, my life. Fortunately, I guess, just as I had finished sharpening the scissors, my consciousness succumbed to the wonders of NyQuil and I dozed off. So my nose is still intact, and I believe running a bit less, either due to the NyQuil, time, or the threat of amputation (along the way, by the way, I've perfected the art of buying time by rolling over onto my other side and thus making my nose change its marathon running course from one nostril to the other). Having been genetically blessed by a non-descript nose, I can go months without ever really considering it (I do know two people who have no sense of smell--I wonder how little they consider their noses), but then a few germs get in the way, and I can think of nothing else but my nose for days on end. And so, my eyebrows, toenails, and kneecaps have been allowed to run wild this week. It's always something. Anyway, this nose-obsession of mine these last couple of days has reminded me of something a little more divine, a poem/prayer I wrote a couple years ago. Enjoy it and mind the noses, yours and everyone else's.
By God, I’ve got it, God.
The way to remember always
That you are in everyone I meet.
The nose.
The nose knows.
From now on, I’ll see everyone’s nose
And know that you are present.
Primal pathway of breath-life.
Center of the face, of faith.
In its protrusions and elongations,
Its twistedness and pimply hairy beauty
—I’ll see you in human contact.
May the nose be my divine neon sign.
Proboscis=godliness.
Make me aware of every nose I meet, Lord,
So that I may see past the human nuisance
And glimpse your presence all around me
As plain as the nose on my face.
