Beavers

I heard a report on the radio the other morning. There is an unusual area near the forests and lands of last year’s Colorado wild fires. Most of the area is devastated and contains trees that look like burnt match sticks but there is an area that the fire didn’t touch.

What made it fire proof were the wetlands and river beds created by the beaver community. Beavers are nature’s architects. They create ponds, streams even reshape the marshy lands. In doing “what comes naturally”, that for which they are created, it benefits all around.

Of course, for generations beavers were not appreciated. Over hunting almost wiped them out. (Well, perhaps they were appreciated too much- not for their living attributes but for their warm pelts.) They were considered pests and prevented “progress”. The beavers’ management of stream beds and rivers interfered with how man wanted to manage the same area.

The beaver story made me think of a news article I read many years ago about constructed wetlands: artificially creating marshes and wetlands to treat waste water. By using what nature has already designed to do, we are able to replicate that on a larger scale for our benefit both health-wise and environmentally-wise.

Many years ago my mom predicted that all that we need to solve our world problems were provided by God through the natural world. God gave us brains and curiosity to figure things out. She thought many treatments for diseases would be found naturally and even uncovered/discovered through traditional methods from indigenous people. In some ways that is so. For instance, there is a Brazilian viper snake whose venom proved vital in the development of the blood pressure drug captopril. Apparently about 70 percent of current cancer drugs are either natural products or derived from natural compounds, and the world’s largest rain forest is a great cauldron of biodiversity that has already produced medicine for diseases such as malaria.

In some ways it is a shame when nature or traditional means are dismissed from the “how we solve modern problems/situations” equation. There is a pridefulness in thinking we are too “modern” or sophisticated and that we have all the knowledge necessary to solve our dilemmas. We are short-sighted not to entertain all possibilities in our quest for understanding.

Yet, I wonder how much do I think I am so modern or sophisticated? I am thinking of ideas/people/procedures that I may have dismissed and not appreciated for the natural talents or abilities they brought to the discussion. How much have I been short-sighted in my understanding of others?

Lately the posture of humility has been foremost in my mind: the more I know, the less I know. I am trying to welcome each day with humility and curiosity: what will I learn today from others or from some knowledge base that I didn’t know yesterday?

What about you? What natural gifts or talents do you have? Are they appreciated? By you? By others? Have you ever learned something from a more traditional/natural method? What was it?

There is an old song, It’s Hard to be Humble, by Mac Davis. Part of the chorus: “Oh, Lord, it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way.” We may laugh at such audacity but there is some truth to how we think. Perhaps we need to think of the lowly beaver and how much they can teach us.

Before destruction a man's heart is haughty, but humility comes before honor. Proverbs 18:12

Sportsmanship

Are you a good sport? A poor loser? A gracious winner?

Over the weekend there was an example of good sportsmanship in the men’s high jump at the Tokyo Olympics. Qatar’s Mutaz Essa Barshim and Italy’s Gianmarco Tameri, each of whom cleared 7 feet, 9 1/4 inches asked the officials if they could share the gold medal rather than have a jump-off. In some ways it was definitely a win-win decision for the fellows. (Although if one was super competitive, he might not have wanted to share the podium.)

Both gentleman are good friends having met at a junior meet over ten years ago. They have trained together. They suffered injuries and recovered together. Without a second hesitation, when confronted with the tie, they immediately thought of sharing the podium.

According to Merriam-Webster.com: sportsmanship is conduct (such as fairness, respect for one's opponent, and graciousness in winning or losing) becoming to one participating in a sport.

Diana Abed, Department of Philosophy at TU Dortmund, Germany says that with sportsmanship, there are four elements: fairness, equity, good form and the will to win. These four elements are equally important and not reducible to one another. Yet, the will to win is in systematic conflict with the other three elements. Hence, sportsmanship is not only compromised of these four elements, but also requires that a balance be held between them.

In the case of the two Olympic athletes, did friendship make it easier for them to demonstrate good sportsmanship? Or the fact that they understood each other: the sacrifices and rigors of the sport?

There has been much written about good sportsmanship, especially in teaching it to the younger generation- probably due to the fact that poor sportsmanship abounds both with the players and with the parents. When poor sportsmanship runs amuck, more than just hurt feelings occur- sometimes major injuries.

In our family, I have a nephew who was the victim of poor sportsmanship: a soccer opponent was angry at his team being down a goal. In the midst of a play, my nephew was fouled and tripped to the ground. The opponent cleated him on his face so that my nephew was rushed off the field and had to have a titanium cheekbone to replace his broken one.

When confronted, both player and parent demonstrated anger issues. They didn’t see anything wrong with the extremely aggressive behavior. For them, the risk of injury or causing injury was the cost of playing the game and in winning.

On the BBC website (https://www.bbc.com/sport/37405389) there is a brief article highlighting what they consider eight of the greatest displays of good sportsmanship (as of 2016 when it was written). I like the description from the 1969 Ryder Cup:

At the 1969 Ryder Cup, an event that was dominated by the USA at the time, Britain's Jacklin and American Nicklaus reached the 18th hole all-square with the overall scores tied at 15.5-15.5. It was the final match of the competition and, after Nicklaus holed his putt to make par, Jacklin faced a three-footer to earn the first ever tie in the event. Instead of forcing his rival to take his shot, Nicklaus picked up Jacklin's ball marker and conceded the tie. "I don't think you would have missed that Tony," Nicklaus said, "but I didn't want to give you the chance."

Good sportsmanship translates to more than just sports. It equates to being well-mannered and mature. It requires self-control. Sportsmanship builds character, team work, resilience, respect, discipline, kindness, inclusion, perseverance, humility. It is like all attributes: one display of good sportsmanship begets another. It not only shows respect for your opponent and the game but also for yourself. If you are angry at teammates or frustrated with opponents, then you (and if you have teammates) don’t play your best. One learns lessons by being a good sport: with both wins (humility) and losses (empathy), a person learns perspective in the game and in life. One learns balance.

Sometimes I wonder about the young man who injured my nephew. Where is he today? In looking back, no one recalls the significance of that game. Was it regular season? Tournament play? For that young man, was it worth it to have the blot on his character and record?

There is a sleeper hit on Apple TV- “Ted Lasso”. (Received 20 awards and nominations) It is a television series based on an old television commercial. A corny, mid-westerner coach is hired by a scorned ex-wife, now owner of a UK Football Club determined to ruin the team by hiring a man who knows nothing about European football. What she doesn’t expect is Ted’s positive, nice guy attitude and how he touches the lives of all he meets through his actions and words of wisdom. As Ted says to a cynical reporter, “For me, success is not about the wins and losses. It's about helping these young fellas be the best versions of themselves on and off the field.”

What about you? Do you show the best version of yourself? At work? At play? At home? I feel that sportsmanship is much more than what happens on the field, court, course, or ground. It is all about relationships: how we treat one another and how we want to be treated.

If the two Olympians didn’t know that about sportsmanship before, they certainly do now.

As Knute Rockne, football player and coach at the University of Notre Dame, said, “One man practicing sportsmanship is far better than a hundred teaching it.”

Closet of Undone Things

In the 1964 television Christmas classic, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer there is an island of misfit toys. Perhaps you remember? The Jack-in-the-Box named Charlie, the train with square wheels, a boat that doesn’t stay afloat or the elephant with polka dots. Potential gifts that weren’t quite right.

It occurred to me the other day that I have my own personal island of misfit toys. Not toys per se but projects unfinished and wants unfulfilled. In essence my closet of undone things:

• Cataloguing and reorganizing all the digital photos on my phone and the computer. Do I really need four photos of the same mistakenly snapped picture of our son’s ninth grade soccer game? No one knows who the boys are, not even which one is our son. Or the numerous pictures of plants and flower that caught my eye. At the time I thought they were National Geographic- worthy. In retrospect, not so much.

• Sorting through the remaining boxes of our parents’ mementoes. Pictures, clippings that have no category yet I cannot part with them. Yet or perhaps ever. Part of the collection contains our parents’ parents’ mementoes that they too could not decide with what to do.

• Creating a scrapbook for each of the boys, containing pictures, awards, mementoes of their lives. I have had this project on my “list” since they were born. Over two decades long.

• Sorting out my craft/project box. Will I ever make new candles using the melted stubs of old ones? Will I ever learn to knit? How about the unfinished needle work projects? When we had to sort out my mother’s things, she too had unfinished projects. In fact, some of mine are inherited from hers.

I think of the list of subjects I would like to learn and conquer: speaking a foreign language (Heck, I wish I could just master English but French, Italian, Spanish, Latin, Greek would be mighty nice.); learning calligraphy; mastering carpentry skills; knowing botanical names of plants; tailoring clothes; cooking bouillabaisse like we had in Bar Harbor- to name a few. Or the dreams that may never come to fruition- learning to ride a horse in order to participate in a steeplechase, living for a time in various cities (e.g. Boston, New York, Paris) or small villages (in England/Scotland/Provence), walking The Way (Camino de Santiago), participating in the Marine Corps Marathon.

These unfinished items may or may not ever get completed. Some of my ideas and plans cannot happen without the aid of family, friends or “experts”. I cannot do them on my own.

I am also aware that there will be always be undone things in this world and ongoing issues. Call it the human condition. One of the frustrations in working in a hospital or any 24/7 operation is that by design, there will always be something more that needs to be done. For people who like to complete their to-do list, it is a challenge. While some things can be checked off, there are others that have to be handed off to the next shift.

That is especially true when caring for another, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually: it is an ongoing and unending operation. No one person can or should shoulder that burden alone or feel that she is finishing everything up in a neat little bow. It is a Sisyphus-type endeavor to think that life presents finished or completed work. Not with people. Not with life’s problems.

What is to be done? Not tackle the issues? Leave the closet door of undone things closed? Leave the misfits on the island?

If we finish all our projects, conquer all our challenges, and tie up all our loose ends, where does that leave us?

I think we would be loaded with pride and lacking humility. I think we need the closet of undone things to remind us that we are not complete ourselves and that we need God and each other to fill in those gaps.I think that is why God made us part of a community. To realize that all have a place in God’s kingdom and we all have a purpose.

In the story about Rudolph, the misfit toys do find homes. They are not repaired or changed in any way in their form or being. They fit in, just as they are. They help Rudolph and friends and in turn find purpose and love in their lives.

What about you? Do you have a closet of unfinished items? Literally? Figuratively? Can you complete those items on your own? Do you need the assistance of someone else? Is it a project that is best left for someone else?

My closet of unfinished items reminds me that there is always an unfinished item. And that is okay. Sure, it is good to have a project and a goal in mind. But if we are people who are always open to new things: to learning, to experiencing life, to helping, to sharing, and to caring we may get side tracked from our initial intention. Life with others is a disruption but it is also a joy. Because as is the case with the hospital working- we need each other to shoulder burdens, to bear the weight and responsibility of life, and to collectively pick up the cause, the project, and the moving towards healing, wholeness and community.

Extreme Times

“It was the best of times, the worst of times.” So said Charles Dickens in the opening line of “A Tale of Two Cities.” We could also use those lines today for we live in extremes- weather, politics, education, socio-economics, health.

We even think in extremes when we view ourselves “I am the worst ….” or “I am the best ….” Very rarely do you hear someone say that they, “I am just average.” Of course, most people chuckled to hear the closing lines of Lake Wobegone:  “where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.” 

In social psychology, this is known as illusory superiority or positive illusion– the tendency to overestimate one’s positive qualities and capabilities, and to underestimate one’s negative qualities, relative to others.

According to brothers, Chip and Dan Heath, in their latest book release, Switch, our brains are “positive illusion factories.” According to the Heaths: Only 2% of high school seniors believe that their leadership skills are below average. 25% of people believe that they are in the top 1% in their ability to get along with others. 94% of college professors report doing above-average work. People believe that they are at lower risk than peers for heart attacks, cancer, and even food-related illnesses, like salmonella. Even more interesting– people claim that they are more likely than their peers to provide accurate self-assessments! (From: https://decision-wise.com/do-you-suffer-from-the-lake-wobegon-effect/)

When I had my broken wrist, I was no different. There seemed to be a perverse pride in my thinking- This must be the worst break the surgeon has ever seen. Realistically I had to tell myself, “not so, my friend.” Sure. It was a pretty bad break but not one that my experienced surgeon hadn’t seen before.

Or my other disillusioned thinking- I am the fastest, best healer in the world. Again, “not so fast, mon amie”. I healed pretty quickly but certainly not a Star-Trek kind of healing. As is true of most of life, we are not the best or worst but somewhere in the middle.

It occurred to me that these types of extremes happen in our relationship with God. We think we have to be the best moral person in order for us to be noticed by Him and to achieve moral goodness resulting in Heaven. We have to be good people through our actions. And it is completely unattainable.

Or we claim that we are the worst sinner ever and so there is no moral hope for us. Nada. We cannot do anything about it and therefore we pridefully wallow in our self-destruction. So long as nothing can be done about it, we might as well do whatever we please to whomever we want. That lifestyle is bound not to end well.

The thing is- we are neither the best nor the worst.

Have you ever wondered why there were criminals hanging on crosses next to Jesus? I am wondering if at that place of Golgotha was the once-and-for-all extreme example of how God changed our lives and took care of the extremes.

After all, Jesus was the best. He was perfect. Sinless. And he was crucified as if He were the lowest of life. Jesus didn’t deserve to die. He had done nothing wrong. Ever. If anyone deserved moral superiority it was Jesus.

The thief on the cross represented the worst. We do not know the multitude of sins or infractions he had committed but it was enough to have him suffer the cruelest of deaths. Regardless of the totality of his sin, once he was killed, that would be it. Time was up. No remorse. No repentance. No forgiveness. No second chances. At that moment, he was the worst for there was no time left for him to be better. All he could do was realistically recognize his sin and Jesus’ goodness.

“Today you will be with me in paradise,” Jesus tells the criminal (Luke 23:42).

Because of Jesus’ willingness to die on the cross, we have no right to say that we are the best and therefore we deserve Heaven. Nor, can we compete with the criminal and say that we are the worst and therefore do not deserve Heaven.

Jesus took care of the extremes so that we don’t have to. All we have to do is believe.

When we recognize Jesus, we can humbly declare like the thief to his fellow crucified thief, “for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” When we do that, the extremes drop away. We do not have to claw our way to the top of being the best nor do we have to dig entrenchments of self-pity and perverse pride. We can honestly and realistically know our place and be accepted as we are: loved and belonging to God. As such, all people have the opportunity to live in paradise. It is a question of choice and freewill.

I think it also applies to life in the here and now. No one is the best or worst. We are all in the in-between. I think when we understand that there are no extremes, we humbly realize that we are all basically in the same storm. Some people have different types of boats but no one has the best or worst one.

What about you? Are you living with extreme thinking? About yourself? In your interactions with others? With God? The thing is- there is always someone better or worse than our situation. If one has reached the top- athletic ability, intellectual prowess, financial goals- there is always another person coming along who will break the record or reach higher heights. For all the tough breaks and hard times someone might go through, there will always be a worse hard luck story told in response.

Humbly seeing ourselves as God sees us- loving us while we were still sinners (and even as we still are sinners)- keeps us from any superiority or superlatives. We can be realistic about our place in this (and the next) world. It should free us up to treat others as we want to be treated.

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

Yet, with God, it can be a time of living without extremes. It can be a really good time.

Carefully Planned

I am reading Anne Morrow Lindbergh book, War Within and Without. It is the last of her “diary/journal/memoir” five part series of books starting with her flight adventures with aviator husband Charles continuing through the kidnap, death and publicity craziness and grief of their first born son, then their living in England and France in “exile” to escape the prying eyes and now settling back in the states at the beginning of WWII when Europe is engaging into war.

Found book at a "Free Little Library”.

It is a fascinating look into the mindset of Americans during this period of history (the time before America entered the war), especially as Anne writes as the history is unfolding, almost in a “real time” viewpoint all the while we are reading it knowing the outcome of history. While Lindbergh has been vilified at times and definitely found with feet of clay (a decade or so ago it was disclosed of his three mistresses and their collective families). It is an honest look at a flawed hero and heroine of our time.

I am finding many parallels to our current political situation and while it is alarming (we as a society should take note), it is also comforting in knowing that if things should happen again we can prevail.

One light hearted anecdote occurs early on in the memoir. Anne is describing a delightful weekend that Charles and she experienced with a French diplomat. Anne, who was the interpreter for Charles and the guest thoroughly enjoyed the visit as this gentleman asked questions of her too, as a writer and about mutual books. The intellectual exercise in their discourse and discussions was enjoyed by all three of them.

At one point in the recounting, Anne says that all three of them were having a deep and lively discussion as they were driving from one location to another. The car suddenly stopped. The reason- out of gas. Charles had forgotten to fill up before they took off!

Anne doesn’t elaborate too much only that it was astonishing for Charles to be so unprepared and only underscored how intrigued he was in their discussions. After all, aviator Charles A. Lindbergh was the king supreme of the check-list. In fact, the preflight checks that are standard with airplanes were designed by Charles. He had checklists for everything. Even his discussions with his children and their goals and plans were kept in checklist form on index cards.

Just goes to show you that to ere is human.

I enjoy hearing about human foibles. Not for the purpose of gloating but more for the purpose of identity: we are all in the same boat and we are all in the position of needing humility. Any human who seems “perfect” is not. Just look at the news and the darling of yesterday is the scourge of tomorrow.

I also am encouraged when I hear that even planners forget to plan and that even the best laid plans can go awry. It is another way of remaining humble: we may carefully plan situations but most often they may take another turn. That isn’t to say that we shouldn’t plan what we can. It is just that we need to be open to whatever turns the plans may take.

The Bible has many verses talking about acknowledging plans and asking for guidance:

“I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper and not to harm you.” Jeremiah 29:11

“Ask and it will be given you” Matthew 5; 7

Although I think many people might view these verses as “ask the genie in the bottle”/fairy-godmother type verse. God is not like that. He is powerful and almighty and deserves and expects reverence. The thing is, His plans are the best. In our limited viewpoint, we sometimes think that we know the best for ourselves. After all, isn’t that what all the self-help books are about- the individual helping his/herself? Not that there isn’t good information in those type of books. It is just that while we are to “know thyself”, we need to rely on the One who created us and His knowing of ourselves.

I sometimes need to be reminded that it is in the spirit of humility when I ask, then I receive. When I trust, I do not worry about harm.

Proverbs 19:21 “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”

Proverbs 16:19 “In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.”

Proverbs 16:3 “Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.”

Proverbs 3: 5,6 “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”

What about you? Are you a planner? Do you have trouble relinquishing control of your life? Have you ever had an incident where the very thing for which you are known, you negatively experienced? (Like planner Lindbergh running out of gas?) How did that play out? Was it embarrassing? Did you laugh it off as another humbling incident?

I have recently taken Proverbs 19:21 to heart. While I have many plans in my heart- for myself, family and friends- I recognize that God’s purpose will prevail. And I choose that.

"No Accountin' for Taste..."

Vivien Oswell's,  Little Petunia in an Onion Patch

All art should inspire and make us think about life in a different way.  This little artwork does so for me.   Currently it is hanging in front of me as I sit at my desk. I know that it is an odd image (as my brother-in-law would say, no accountin' for taste...) but the whole process of acquiring the painting, the life and value of the artist and the subject itself speaks to me and encourages me. 

I know that it is not very aesthetically pleasing.  But some things in life are not.  As much as we want things to be otherwise, we can get stuck in the muck and dirt.  It can be very humbling especially when we picture ourselves as a beautiful flower in an idyllic setting and think we are above the mud.  The reality is that we are more in the dirt than we think.  Humble and humus come from the same root words- from the earth. Humility is not a weak character trait;  it is one that cultivates growth. The painting reminds me to be humble in all my endeavors.

Sometimes we are placed in situations that just don't seem to fit.  We are flowers that for whatever reason- circumstances, choices, temperament- we find ourselves growing in a totally unlikely place. We may want to cry over our situation but we can also think of our placement as necessary.  Necessary to maintain balance for ourselves- remaining humble despite what we think we deserve.   Necessary for others to see life in a different way- one can bloom even when the environment seems hostile.  We are called to make the best out of our lives and sometimes we have to live that adage, not just say it. 

The artist always felt that her talent was God's gift to her.  She has been faithful to that gift most of her life, continuing to paint even in her nineties. I first saw this painting three years ago when I had strolled into an artist's guild studio in one of the little villages on the Cape.  At the guild, each artist takes a turn at the sales desk so on the day I visited, Vivien happened to be behind the desk.  I liked her other paintings but was struck by the oddity of this subject, flower and onions against her boating, beach and floral scenes.  When I asked her about it, she said that she wanted to try something different.  She even sang the song to me, "I'm a Lonely Little Petunia in an Onion Patch" on which the picture was based. We had a lovely conversation about art, the sense of calling and how one needs to persevere in the art practice.  At the time I debated purchasing the painting.  It wasn't "attractive" so I didn't.  Yet over the last three years, I would think about it and think of Vivien.  I would recall her story and it would encourage me.  "Next time I am at the Cape I need to see if I can get it." 

The original sheet music. Click here to hear it.

This year, I decided to go back to the guild and purchase it.  When we went in, we found Ms. Oswell's collection but this painting wasn't there on the wall.   I was so disappointed.   When I asked the artist in attendance about the painting and if Ms. Oswell was still painting (I didn't want to ask if she was still alive, for she is 95 after all)  she said that Vivien had suffered a cardiac incident but was recovering at home. She then suggested that I contact Ms. Oswell to ask her about that specific painting.  When I finally got up the courage to call her (it is daunting to contact an artist, especially one not well), Ms. Oswell answered the phone and said to come on over to her house/studio. She was all excited saying she had the original.  We made an appointment to meet at her house.  When we got there, she was up, alert and didn't look at all that she had any health issues.  She was sitting in her living room/art gallery.  There were wooden bins of prints and paintings all around the perimeter.  Various sized canvases were stacked against the wall.  There appeared to be hundreds of her works scattered all around.    She proudly showed us a painting of a bowl of petunias. While the painting was beautiful it was not the one I wanted.   I was crestfallen!

I then asked- what about the one with the petunia in the onion patch?  Generally I am not that bold as to make specific requests of others but at that point, I was not going to let any stone be unturned.  She thought for a moment and then immediately sprang out of her chair- no walker for her- and sorted through a collection of paintings leaning against her fireplace and produced it.  I felt such relief,  joy and satisfaction in purchasing it.  

Sometimes we need to pursue that which inspires us and makes us happy.  The item might not be hanging where we first saw it and so we have to ask questions and do a little digging.  We need to pursue those inspirations because we need reminders of why we are doing what we are doing.  We may find ourselves feeling out of sorts and in the wrong place so we need that encouragement of a word, a quote or even a picture. And sometimes we need to remain where we are and bloom regardless of how things are situated around us. 

What about you?  Have you ever been inspired by a painting, picture, quote or word?  What was it?  Why do you think that it struck a chord with you?   

Another Vivien Oswell's in our upstairs hallway.

One Hand

This week I committed the cardinal sin of kitchens. I placed a sharp cutting knife in the soapy dishwater and forgot about it.  Only when I was washing the dishes did I come upon it- by slicing the tip of my left-hand, middle finger.  

Yikes.  Talk about blood. God love my "faint upon seeing blood" husband. (He now has a sticker in his medical chart.  He must lie down with his feet preventively above his head when he gets labs drawn.  Too many times when he passed out giving a small vial to check his hemoglobin,etc.) 

Once I got the bleeding somewhat under control, he helped me put a butterfly bandage on it. He always amazes me.  He knows just what to do and does it.  Part of it comes from his first aid training in Boy Scouts.  In fact, he was the one who taught the class at Boy Scout camp.  I always wondered how did that work?  Didn't he faint as he taught the class?  "Purely theoretical", he replies.  (It is after the crisis is over, will he have to lie down and let the color return to his face.) 

I now have 2 butterfly bandages on my finger, plus a flexible fabric bandage to contain the antibiotic ointment and another knuckle bandage over top of it all.  It really extends my middle finger so that when I move my hand, I look like I am perpetually ticked off at everyone. (which some days describes my mood)

The thing is, having limited use of my left hand is a big annoyance.  It is just a small appendage, but I have to rethink what I am doing.  I don't want to get that hand wet because the soggy bandages have to be continually changed. I don't want to use it when I garden because I don't want dirt in my cut.  So many things I do, require that I use both hands and for the time being I can't.

"Two hands are better than one".  That is certainly an apropos adage. Two hands can provide strength, support, and symmetry. For us as individuals we need to have the balance of both sides.

It makes me thing that in the global sense, we need two hands;  we need the balance of both sides.  We need the strength, support and symmetry that comes when there is more than just one idea, one way of doing something, or one solution.

With my one handedness, I have to ask my husband to help.  I find that it is quite a bother because I am, as I have mentioned before, an independent cuss.  It is humbling to have someone else button a button or fix a clasp. 

But isn't that what we are asked to do?  Help others?  Give support?  Provide strength? Be humble? 

Just like we need two hands, we need one another. 

What about you?  Ever have trouble with your appendages?  Temporarily or permanently?  What did you learn with that experience?