A note from Sar
So much of what we do, we never chose.
Sighing. Yawning. Blushing. Fidgeting. Trembling. Crying when we’d rather not. The things a body does before we’ve had a chance to decide whether we agree.
Once, over dinner, I yawned mid-conversation. The man across the table was offended. I’d actually been finding him interesting.
I apologised, the way you do. But the apology was for him, not for my body. By then I already knew my yawns aren’t a review of the conversation. My body just yawns. A lot.
I could have explained. I didn’t. I’m still not sure why, except that a yawn didn’t seem to need a defence. I let it be a yawn.
People do get offended by yawns. But my body is just my body.
That’s the kind of moment I write about.
I fall down rabbit holes. Yawning was the first, and it started early.
When I was about ten, a children’s magazine told me people yawn to get more air, not necessarily because they’re sleepy. The body needs air, so it takes some. What could be wrong with that? I thought it was brilliant. From then on, yawning was simply normal to me.
Later, I began to doubt that explanation. The science turned out to be far less settled than the magazine made it sound. So I went looking. One question led to another: then why do I sigh? And another.
I search, I read, and I use AI as a thinking partner to help me find the next question worth asking. I keep going until I feel I’ve understood enough. Then I wonder what else the body does that I’ve barely thought about.
The body is sacred.
This is the body I’m bound to for this lifetime, and I want to understand it. I’d rather live in sync with it than spend my energy trying to command it.
That does not make every bodily event a message or a problem. It makes it worth looking at closely.
Not a fix. A closer look.
So much of the wellness world sells the gap: the distance between the body you have and the perfected one you’re told you could have, if you just found the right fix.
Perfectly calm. Perfectly regulated. Properly healed. Apparently never annoyed in traffic.
That’s a great many ways to fail before breakfast.
I don’t think that gap ever fully closes. A human body comes with limitations. Some of what it does will never be tidy, and not every imperfection is a problem to solve.
Understanding hasn’t made me yawn less. I still catch myself breathing shallowly. But I notice these things now, and I feel much less bad about them.
That’s what I’d like to offer you. Not control. Not a cure. Just a closer look, and a little less judgment.
The books
Each book comes at the same question from a different direction: what might be happening here, before I decide this is a defect?
The books can be read in any order. They’re available in Kindle and paperback.
What I am, and what I’m not.
I’m not a doctor, therapist, or scientist. My books aren’t a substitute for medical or psychological care. If something your body is doing worries you, please talk to a professional. You don’t have to figure your body out on your own.
What I do is gather what I find from science, from spiritual traditions, and from ordinary life, and try to make it readable. I try to be clear about the difference between what’s known and what’s my own interpretation.
Knowing how a sigh works doesn’t make it less intimate. Not every bodily event needs a cosmic subplot. Sometimes you yawned because you were tired. But ordinary doesn’t mean meaningless.
Come wonder with me. Start with something your body already does.
Sar Iana · Author