Apt tools (me, my hands, and aging)

Autumn rolled around and I went to a second writer’s seminar. Of course there was another mind-opening task to do here as well. We were each given a sock with some “common household item” tucked inside of it. The instructions were to look at our hands, then reach inside the sock, touch and feel the item, then write our impressions using our left hand. After that we could pull out the item then continue writing our impressions, this time with either hand. Here’s what I came up with…

I used to like to look at my hands, and when I did I saw capable, apt tools and delicate, feminine decorations. Ironically, now that they’ve had years of experience and are better, more disciplined, and more helpful hands, all I see are dry, slightly withered, getting old hands. It’s distressing.

I reached in the sock and felt something dry and scratchy — leather. (Just great…) I was repulsed, but there was nothing else to do, so I continued to stroke it and it became familiar. With the familiarity began the sense that it was my “friend.” It was likable now instead of repulsive.

Pulling the item out I saw that it was “Genuine Top Grain Cowhide” – sorta like my hands. Now do I see Top Grain Cowhide or do I see repulsive? It’s all the same thing, isn’t it? It takes on the identity I give it… as do my hands. Are they top grain or are they scratchy and repulsive? If I look at them now on the keyboard, I understand that they are and always have been extensions of myself — and very apt tools.