02/02/2024
This is a poem I wrote about "my hand" and the experience I had driving 3000 miles. 6 days driving with Don Carson across country with a fractured wrist in order to have surgery in Brunswick, GA.
Janisse Ray gave a prompt in her Substack post that inspired to share this. I performed it at the CANOPY STUDIO show here at the The Marsh Studio on November 18.
Life was coasting along…breezily, easily.
And I on my beloved E-bike was coasting along with it, My daily sweet routine
Stopping hurriedly for a yard sale.
Quickly Mis-Stepping down on a curb.
And…What WAS that jagged stone wall doing, appearing in my lovely day?
What was my hand doing awkwardly reaching out to the stone wall to stop my fall and…
… fractured wrist
my whole world screeched to a sudden unwelcome halt
… catapulted into a mad rush back home for surgery
One moment’s fall.
3000 miles
5 days driving.
2 hours of surgery
12 weeks of recuperation
My once stronger, dependable right hand limited to slight finger movements.
My left hand now being called into awkward reluctant service, articulating tasks beyond its understanding
Of
Sooner or later, the lottery of random misfortune draws our number. And, for me, Then. It could be worse. Much worse.
So, why did it happen to me ?
Why wouldn’t it happen to me? To any of us?
The meaning I find in this blindsided cosmic smash, and also in my sweet daily routines is:
Slowing down.
Looking around.
Gratitude.
Being present in Nature.
Such beauty. Quiet Joy, Kindness. And healing.
And now, this moment, with you.
This life…Now.
Reach out.
Touch. And be touched.
Be generous beyond what you can imagine.
Give more.
Give more.
Receive.
As we shift, within Ourselves, where life calmly reveals its own secret, what regeneration is possible.