Hands
Earned their keep
These hands of mine
I’ve been trying to remember what it was like to be a kid — to remember what I played at and imagined and loved. I want to see if the things I started out loving provide clues to how to bring those playful feelings (free, light, uninhibited, unworried about outcome, adaptable, unrestricted) back into my way too serious life.
Thursday and Friday, I did my first bike-train commutes of 2015. It was rough start, because, for one thing, I lost my Metro Go Card.
I have 4 categories that I divide my daily activities into: Things that will help me reach a goal – Such as taking a writing class and writing a set number of words per day to move towards completing a book, or learning how to hitch up the horse trailer and backup so I can take…
It’s April. Time for April showers and 30 Days of Biking.
This post contains my first attempt at doing an “educational” video. Perhaps someone powerful will see this, marvel at my talent, and hire me as a broadcaster or public speaker. I might even get my own TV show. It can only get better than this No where to go but up Which way to look…
Gliding down a hill on my bicycle, I see a break in the tarred path up ahead. These cracks, potholes, and raised pavement happen a lot in Minnesota with our extreme changes in temperature. There are also the tree roots that raise the tar in defiance. Unevenness and cracks at a distance can be tricky…
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Fantastic! These hands have earned their keep? I love that! And your photographs are stunning – as are your hands! I often think that way about my body in general – you know, that it’s earned its keep – but specifically hands? What a lovely meditation. I loved, loved, loved this and will look at my age spotted, somewhat scarred, crepe paper textured skin hands more lovingly and appreciatively after reading this.
Your hands, poem, and photos, are beautiful. (but I do know the feeling of looking at my own hands and thinking “who’s are these?”)
Lynn