My body functions perfectly and harmoniously.

Harmony in a kitchen at Friday service doesn't look like calm. Six people, none of them watching each other, and the plates leave together anyway.

Something similar goes on below your attention constantly — temperature, blood sugar, the pace of your breathing, all adjusted by systems that have never been introduced. The coordination is not serene. It is closer to competent chaos, endlessly corrected. It has been running the whole time you have been reading this, and it did not require your approval to start.