Last Monday I had minor surgery on my right hand. For the first few days, the pain meant that no WordPress posts were forthcoming. Since then, my dear hand has been feeling better and better, and here I am tapping away on my laptop.
My digital journey has been fascinating, from the strange sensation of cords being cut under local anaesthetic, to the freezing coming out, to trying to shave. But sitting here right now, the story isn’t alive. It isn’t juicy in my soul. It feels like old news. Oh, I could scribe about the last week with some level of proficiency but the writing wouldn’t bounce along, since I’m not living it now. Sometimes on WordPress I’ve told you about events that happened before but they were also bubbling up in me as I sat down with my computer. Not so for my recent hand adventures.
My last post was called “Hair Loss”. It was accompanied by a shaggy photo of me, courtesy of Covid closing my hair salon. I ended the piece looking forward to Amazon delivering a hair trimming kit. There would have been much to tell here as well. Trying (for a long time!) to remove the blade from the trimmer in anticipation of future cleaning, the same lengthy process of reattaching the blade, watching several YouTube videos about men cutting their own long hair, the first attempt at cutting, and today’s tweaking. All of that was there … and I just don’t want to write about it. The story isn’t singing to me.
What is alive to wanting to write again after an absence of nine days. Right now, I’m being pulled forward to having my thoughts show up on screens. I want my words to reach people, and to touch at least a few of them. I want contact.
Will tomorrow offer me a topic that I can throw myself into? I think so, without at the moment having an idea of what that topic will be. The past has shown me that when my heart is revving, my fingers will find the keys.
Oh … and here’s a photo of the new me.