v: Anthroposophical Views
Getting under the skin Dora Wagner Everyone is in his own consciousness As in his own skin and lives directly only in the same. Arthur Schopenhauer, trans. D. Wagner
Two months ago, I injured the tip of my middle finger very badly when I was cutting faded plants. The bleeding was difficult to stop, so I had to quit gardening for a while. Two months later, there is nothing left of the wound and I consider this a great miracle. The capabilities of skin are fascinating, aren't they? One of the most remarkable features of human skin is its nakedness. Unlike other animals, humans have no fur, no feathers, no spines, no horns, no manes with which to equip themselves for life under particular environmental and climatic conditions (Jachens, 2012). As an outpost of the brain, our skin has numerous sensors that react to changes in our environment and warn us of possible dangers. The mechanoreceptors of the skin include cells for touch, pressure or vibration; thermoreceptors convey the sensations of warmth or cold; nociceptors, sensations of pain. Positive tactile perceptions are the basis for our primal trust in human existence. Body and skin contact are vital for all of us, carrying real social bonds and enabling self-awareness. In the sense of touch, we experience ourselves, our ego, the boundaries of our body as distinct from the environment. Jachens (2018) describes our perceptions of touch, warmth and vibration as conscious perceptual activities, whilst smell, taste and certain aspects of the perception of light are unconscious perceptions of matter and its properties. There is some evidence (e.g. Yong, 2009) that when we follow a speaker, we not only listen with our ears but watch their facial expressions and experience the air puffs of their speech as tactile stimuli via the skin. In this way, the skin is also involved in hearing. We
also ‘see’ with our skin, to the extent that the absorption of light interacts with melanin, effects vitamin D synthesis, and accelerates growth in our hair follicles (Bäumler, 2006; Buscone et al, 2017). Our skin has even been shown to respond to the scent of Sandalwood (Santalum album), and other odours (Gelis et al, 2016). In fact, the skin’s olfactory receptors have been found in increased concentrations within melanomas and also in mRNA. In both cases, the olfactory receptors are upregulated; when activated, they inhibit both the growth and the migration of cancer cells, suggesting potential as a novel target in the treatment of skin cancer or disorders of pigmentation (ibid.). The skin says a lot about the person inside it; our facial skin may redden with excitement, turn pale with panic, itch with nerves. These phenomena are due to changes in blood circulation and can tell us much. Thus, as an intrinsic element in human facial expression, skin becomes a representatively designed surface. No wonder it provides such rich material for metaphor. A person wearing a thick coat is not necessarily ‘thin-skinned’; even if you ‘don't feel comfortable in your skin’, you may not wish to ‘jump out of’ it; nor does anyone hope to succeed merely by ‘the skin of their teeth’. Maintaining skin health is a very complex matter, involving diet, environment and lifestyle. Therefore, I will not report here on plants used to treat skin conditions, but describe how, in anthroposophical medicine, healing substances are applied to specific areas of the skin to benefit the whole person.
26
