One Thing at a Time

Thursday night, I was outside and saw Gans (aka Hell Cat, to some of you) studying something by the house, so I went to investigate. A snake. My first thought, “Rattler!” My second, “Get Gans in the house!” Reasonable thought process up to this point. What I did next, though, was not reasonable. I reached down and picked Gans up. Notice I did not say, “picked Gans up by his scruff,” as any good cat owner will be thinking. No, no, just picked him up. He was halfway up when he made it clear that: 1) he had been very, very focused on what he was doing and probably didn’t know I was anywhere close, and 2) he felt strongly that my action was most likely putting him in more danger, not less. So now I have two fairly deep puncture wounds on the back of my right hand, and a one-inch laceration just below my right knuckle, also fairly deep. (All you motherly-minded out there, be reassured, I went to the doctor Friday and started on antibiotics.)

So now I have a very puffy, very tender right hand. I am, of course, right-handed. Fine finger movements (like typing) are OK, but more gross movements (making a fist, say, or spreading my fingers to type a capital Y) are quite painful. Since Thursday night, I have been doing most everything left-handed. Some observations:

• Small actions take great skill. You try left- (or opposite-) handed tooth-brushing, and promise me you’ll let someone watch (or at least watch yourself in the mirror), because it’s a hoot. I keep jabbing myself in the gums.
• I often don’t think about moving, I just move, as in: I need something in the fridge, I’m opening the fridge, I probably should not have opened the fridge using my right hand.
• I now have a different perspective on dressing – how much do I want to be unbuttoning/rebuttoning pants when I use the bathroom today? Not much, thanks, how about that slip-on dress?
• Eating left-handed is another small action/great skill scenario. If you have a tendency to eat too quickly (I do), try switching hands.

I’m sure that – if this situation were permanent – I would gain left-handed efficiency. But for now, I’m actually enjoying the opportunity to slow down.

Multi-tasking may not be all it’s cracked up to be. There’s some relief in being forced to do one thing at a time: pick up water pitcher with left hand, transfer to counter next to fridge, set down, open fridge with left hand, prop open with right elbow, pick up water pitcher with left hand, transfer to fridge. I simply can’t rush like this. I have to think about each and every movement. I’m being forced to integrate a very yogic concept into my daily life: make every movement with thoughtful deliberation. There’s a Zen concept of walking meditation, kinhin, where every slow step is separated by a complete inhalation and exhalation. A chance to break up something we normally don’t think twice about – walking – into its component parts; a chance to reflect instead of rush.

I will, of course, be glad when my hand heals. But I will also try to continue to move a little slower and reflect a little more.