The word “disease” came from dis and ease, a lack of ease. 

Somewhere along the way, diseases became entities.  By this, I mean that we have been taught to think of them as things, rather than processes of a lack or reduction of ease.

For example, is diabetes an entity?  No, it is a process by which the pancreas fails to produce insulin necessary to lower blood sugar.  Is cancer an entity?  After all, we say things like, “She’s a victim of cancer”, or “It’s spread into his liver”.  Is cancer an entity, a thing that attacks us?  No, again it’s a process.  It’s the cells of the body reproducing out of control.  Is multiple sclerosis an entity, and people with it just happen to be unlucky victims?  No, it’s a degenerative process of the nervous system.  Why is this significant?  Why do I write of this?  Because how we perceive the body and its failings determines how we treat it.

If we label these things, and others, as entities, we naturally assume that we need a thing to treat it.  And treating it usually means conquering it.  Haven’t we all heard about the war on cancer or the battle against diabetes?

What happens to things we declare war on?  We usually make more of it.  The war on crime, the war on cancer, the war on …

I’m suggesting, instead of fighting a disease, we learn to add ease.