Axel Hacke in the interview: The author on heart, mind, and his tinnitus

That visitors are out of breath when they first arrive at his office is something Axel Hacke is familiar with. He climbs the four floors himself every day. Here stands the desk where his columns are written, which have appeared week after week in the magazine of the Süddeutsche Zeitung for more than 30 years.

And his more than 30 books, most recently "On Cheerfulness in Difficult Times and the Question of How Important the Seriousness of Life Should Be to Us." For almost a year it has been high on the bestseller lists – as has his new work "Ouch! The Story of My Body."

A dentist appointment is behind him, he says, to allow for a pause. He apologizes, saying he is still a bit dazed. But none of this is noticeable, on the contrary. Before Hacke takes a seat in a deep chair next to his desk to answer questions about his new book, he brings out a not exactly small syringe that his dentist gave him. Inside are five small special drills, all of which were used to set an implant. Their sharpness, their precision, they have left a noticeable impression.

Mr. Hacke, in your new book you tell the story of your body, organized by body parts – teeth, lungs, knees, ear, nose, heart and much more. How did the idea come about?

I looked at my hand and thought about everything that had already happened to it. There’s a scar, there’s a line that comes from an old wound, and something isn't quite right with the fingernail either. The time in which I live and have lived, in which I have grown and shrunk again, is reflected in the body. So why not tell about the scars and the events associated with them, about each individual body part?

"Ouch!" can be read as a biography of your body. In the chapter "Belly," the beautiful word cake frenzy appears. From which phase of your life does this term come?

I was born in 1956. The two hunger winters after the war were still very present for my parents and grandparents. It was constantly talked about and was also reflected in the family. My uncle, who was always said to have fallen in the war, died in the hospital in my hometown. I suspect he had dysentery. He basically starved.

That's why, during the time I grew up, an insane amount was eaten. Every family celebration consisted of giant cake battles. Black Forest cake, Frankfurt crown cake, fruit cake. As a child, I loved it, I could eat until I felt sick. That's a very present memory. Today I don't eat a lot of cakes anymore, but on days when I need comfort, I sometimes fall back into this habit and visit a pastry shop.

You found out why humans need two nostrils, talk about the healing power of sighing, but also how your memory lets you down and how you broke a bone while meditating. How does that work?

That wasn’t funny at all. I was meditating, suddenly had to sneeze and couldn’t stop. On the ninth sneeze, it hit me like someone stabbed me with a knife. Painkillers got me through the night, and three doctor visits later a radiologist finally determined that I had broken a rib.

They suggest calling the rib fracture after a sneezing attack Morbus Hacke in the future.

Yes, anyway I don’t know a second person this has happened to.

In one place you write that you generally feel very comfortable in your body. Elsewhere it says: “My whole life basically consists of reducing stress.” How does that relate?

Actually, I've always had a healthy body. But when I look at the health problems I've had to deal with over the course of my life, many of these problems are a result of stress, of being overwhelmed, of overexertion, and of not listening to the body's signals in time.

When did you first perceive this connection?

It started when I suffered from severe headaches as a child and teenager. It was a time when psychiatrists were considered as doctors for the insane and anything starting with 'Psy' was not worth mentioning. Since no physical reason was found, the matter was considered done. Later, too much jogging led to a stress fracture. Then stomach problems - too much stomach acid, the classic. All stress symptoms.

What is it like to live with a ringing in your ears for fifty years? And where does it even come from? How can an invitation to the "Literary Quartet" lead to a knee injury? How do you break a bone while meditating? Axel Hacke knows and tells in this book the story and stories of his own body, from the perspective of a man in the second half of his sixties. Dumont Verlag

What do you attribute the stress to?

I always felt like I had to try incredibly hard to be what I wanted to be. To this day, I find it difficult to let go of this notion.

You gradually deciphered your body's messages. Which had the greatest impact on your life?

In the late 90s, I no longer had any interest in my job as a reporter and newspaper person. But I lacked the courage to quit and work as a freelance author. During this time, I was assigned a report that I wasn't interested in. On the morning I was supposed to leave, I woke up with a tremendous ringing and whistling in my ear - sudden hearing loss!

I had to cancel the trip, and I was sick for ten days. I realized: This is the final alarm signal from your body. If I don't react now, it will end badly. The sudden hearing loss was the trigger for me quitting. That was 25 years ago. Since then, the stress hasn't stopped. But I work much more autonomously and no longer under that pressure.

In one chapter, you talk about a tinnitus that has accompanied you since you were 18. Many people despair because of it. However, you seem to have made your peace. How did you achieve that?

I believe that befriending it is the only chance you have. If I overdo it and don't live in harmony with my physical and mental needs, then it becomes louder and more present. Then it rings, and then I know: So, now you're at the limit. That means slowing down the system a bit and making sure to find peace. That's actually something good.

Many men go to the doctor too late or not at all because they don't take complaints seriously. How good are you at listening to yourself and recognizing that something is wrong?

Pretty good. Simply because good friends of mine have died because they drank earlier, lived unhealthy lives, or simply didn't take care of themselves. But ultimately, I am a man and not good at it. Behind many doctor visits is my wife.

Men are generally considered hypochondriacs. You write that logically speaking, there can be no hypochondriacs at all. Can you please explain that?

If you ask a hypochondriac if they are a hypochondriac, they will be offended. They will respond: I am sick, you are not taking my suffering seriously. That's one thing. If you ask a non-hypochondriac, they will also say no. Rightly so. So it cannot be determined by questioning.

Molière described this classic image of an imaginary invalid in his play. He himself was the opposite of a hypochondriac. He didn't want to admit that he was sick. But he played the main character of his play himself. The non-hypochondriac sick person played a hypochondriac non-sick person. Molière died in this role. He had a hemorrhage on stage. People laughed hysterically because they thought it was part of the production. In fact, he had tuberculosis. What a story!

© Katatara

Axel Hacke: "The hearing loss was the trigger for me to resign."

You suggest in the preface that your body can also bring joy. In the book, you talk about it hardly at all. Is that humility? Or are stories of failure and mishaps simply more fruitful?

It's easier to tell and generally engages people more. You can't really boast about a half marathon in 1:47 either.

You talked to many doctors for the book. Which insight surprised you the most?

That you can control a lot in your body through your breathing. If you exhale longer than you inhale, it relaxes a lot. Four seconds to inhale, six seconds to exhale. The sympathetic nervous system works during inhalation, the parasympathetic nervous system during exhalation, inhalation is about tension, exhalation and relaxation. It almost sounds esoteric, but it is pure biomedicine. At 30, I would have laughed about it, now I take it very seriously.

The last chapter deals with the question: Do I have a body or am I my body? What conclusion have you come to?

I am my body. I think it is wrong to view the brain separate from the body as the seat of the self. Our consciousness is just as much fed by the touch of fingers, by contact with the outside world, as it is by physical suffering. We perceive the outside world not only with the brain but with all fibers, with each body part in a different way. This results in an overall picture. In that sense, I am my body. And when my body is no longer there, neither am I.

Was this clear to you before researching the book?

No. That is one of the nice insights I owe to working on it. When you talk about the body, you also have to talk about suffering and accepting something. Many people put unspeakable efforts into shaping their bodies to want to be something they are not.

I find that sad. Well, you don't have to be excessively fat, you can live healthier too. But chiseling yourself is an ideal that doesn't come from within and goes back to the wrong idea that there is a claim to happiness. How can one believe that life consists of the absence of suffering, problems, and grievances? That's part of it. That's why life and the exchange with other people are so important.

With increasing age, the conversations about illnesses, states of health, and complaints also increase.

When you sit together with peers, that's the main topic nowadays, unless you're talking about Donald Trump. I think you have to accept that; that's how reality looks. Listening, talking, and exchanging also relax because you realize that you're not alone with your problems.