Living like my hands

I was looking at my hands today and I thought deeply about life. I use them ( my hands) for everything. I gather them in stillness beneath my bowed head daily to pray. I have slept with them beneath my cheek at night and I have come awake with them numb. The waking thought for me as I try to shake the sensation back into them is that I must find something to hold on to. Is sensation a metaphor for life? Maybe, I've tried to shake life back into them.

Find something? Well look first for what is worthy of holding on to and then reach ..use your hands; grasp it tenderly, directly, take it. Unless there is so much fun and learning in not using your hands.

Just today,I found myself putting one of my beautiful hands across my mouth to mute my laughter. I immediately pulled it away.

Laughter is part of my intention.

I have used my hands to design my life. To write my thoughts. To commute myself in my vehicle to places...safely. I use them to gather and usher a person towards reassurance, to cook, clean, love, hug, create. I look at my hands today.

So this life of mine that I designed by hand, ego, and heart is changing and I feel confident that the change is for the better. With all of this, my hands seek more, to touch more, to feel more, to do more. To hold hands and to clasp a face I miss or imagine and even the one I have yet to see; one that I do not yet know. I remember how my hands would involuntarily smooth a brow of a face I love. My hands have memory. I have given my hands a life. Like my life,my desires, my intentions.
My hands have hardly a scar.... and so my life. They are not hardened over. Generous and open...and so my life.

So much for that saying "got your hands full." Life indeed is a hand full.


I am sending messages by hand. I write them, point things out, type, dial a phone..all by hand. These are sometimes messages that are answered with silence, inaction, action, indifference, muteness, and often disbelief. What truth their is in all these things of silence when I used my hands. What perception grows from each result. How special would it be if they knew that I also hold my heart in the same hands?

My response to this is "It is what it is."

I view life like my hands. They are not subject to any amount of arthritis but withstand a bit of neglect from time to time, but in the last 12 days ..I have taken them to the manicurist three times. Present, refine, fix. I have become sensitive of late about my hands.

They have given pleasure..never pain..(at least not to my recollection)
Life however is not like my hands in that sense.

I've caressed the manicurist's hands and held her hands to say thank you for caring for mine. This always throws them for a loop.

So my hands...they grasp things, feel things, go over things, make things, pick things up and drop them. They let go. They caress. My life is like that.

So my hands...they shape things as much as I continue to shape my evolving life.
It's like holding a spinning ball. Ever turning. Knowing when to hold on tighter and knowing when to let go. Knowing what fits well in my hand and knowing what is meant for other hands all together. Knowing two hands are better than one. But the right one for me works best figuratively and literally.

Sometimes things I touch and hold with these hands can be so still that I can feel the life beneath the life my hands shape. Often times my hand feels something old that lingers and misses it.
I am confirmed ...a human being.

You too.

In this time I am training my hands to let go ..release and find a new glove.
And without a glove?
Brave the cold and do not seek cover always.

I cannot imagine not having hands. They take me through my life and help me to present my life to others.

My hands are ready, my life is ready. I am ready to touch something new and intended. I have , I do,I did , I will continue to. My hands also know when to let go ..my hands ar like my life and my hands are more honest than life.

Living like my hands. Keeping my hand over my heart. I feel with it. Even in the noise of the world my hands can shield my eyes and cover my heart. I know you see what I feel thanks to the fact that you too have hands.


I react best to things that I feel and see as organic, fluorescent; the way I would describe myself. Is that ego? Selfish maybe. Not really. And if so; not the lower self of the ego which in a whole other subject is dual. It is a desire for familiarity...seeking of comfort.

You do it too.

My hands are a bit of a miracle.

Yours are too.

Hands are like lives.

Be gentle with them.

Love ..by hand...today.


Adrienne