| If you don’t have a leg to stand on, you can’t put your foot down. |
| Two weeks ago, I stepped on a sewing needle. As I yanked it out of my foot, two inches of black thread dangling mercilessly from the end, I thought the initial “Owwww” was the end of it. But serendipitously waking up 12 hours later, I realized that the productive end of the needle may actually still be embedded in my foot. Hobbling down two flights of stairs sans one boot and a thick sock at 1 A.M., I drove myself to Emergency amidst another Calgary snowstorm. 3 1/2 hours later and three x-rays, yes, there certainly was a portion of the needle in my foot. Now a podiatrist referral, an appointment, and surgery scheduled a week later. “It’s a boy!”, my surgeon announced enthusiastically. Healthy, intact and 3/8” long. Not hesitating to warp personalities and events for my own needs, the sum of birthing four children was less painful than the surgical freezing. All rise now. Not so quick. After we discussed potential birthing announcements, the surgeon sewed up what I imagined was a deep slice in the bottom my foot, bandaged me up, and sent me home, flamingo-like, instructing me to not operate heavy machinery for an indeterminate time. Which is where I don’t stand right now, desiccated in the lacuna of my bedroom, watching my philodendron grow a new leaf. Surgeon’s last words: “This situation may alter your personality.”Me: “Thank God.” Little means of support. There is speculation that “not a leg to stand on” originally referred to furniture, as there used to be four-legged, three-legged and even one-legged stools. All of these had functionality, but a stool without a single leg to stand on was incapable of supporting you. Eventually it became a metaphor for losing positions in arguments, debates and court cases, or the ability to gracefully walk to the bathroom, moving like a sofa down the street. Sense and disability. What would Jane Austen do? Home isolation has its ups and downs – one day you’re on a high cleaning baseboards with a Q-tip, and the next day you are drinking vodka and watching squirrels out of your bedroom window. First, I’m capable of any sacrifice only if it doesn’t last too long.Secondly, I hate being confined, even if it is for my own good. And a blessing to the entire western world. Two, after all, was the normal compliment. For thorough-going gloom, it is hard to beat Schopenhauer, who having a lot of time on his hands as he mostly was either ignored or disparaged, mourned, “Life is an unpleasant business. I have resolved to spend mine reflecting on it.” Knowing that I was stuck here for a while, I remembered hearing a guru say that we should always focus on inner peace. And to achieve this we should always finish things we start. So I methodically hobbled through my house to find things I’d started and hadn’t finished. I finished off a bottle of Chardonnay, a bag of Doritos, a pack of Mars Bars, a cylinder of potato chips, a quart of ice cream and a box of chocolates. In the end, I was quite winded. In general I find it is quite unnecessary to be grumpy if you have a chance not to. I realized I needed to find fortification when I was just tempted to binge-watch nine seasons of Seinfeld, to make friends with reality. I mean, is it alright to adopt airport rules and have a drink at 9 AM? When life goes into overtime, it’s easy to take liberties. (I am sometimes amazed by the depths of my own self-pity.) |
| A summons to intentional awe. Awe. it’s a powerful concept. There is probably nothing better to do for the state of your mind and one leg, than go find some awe. First, you need to pay attention. There is no detail too small to pay attention to, observe and value. Now that I was in the house all day, I was thankful for the sunshine through the windows. I marvelled at the neighbour’s still beaming purple Christmas lights, the afterglow of a sunset, a paragraph in Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, and reminisced on the myriad landscape greens of Ireland. You can always found something beautiful to appreciate. When was the last time you looked at anything, solely, and concentratedly, and for its own sake? After all, the incidents of our lives are not terribly important in the big scheme of things.I mean, is anybody even interested in our weird, unfathomable, ordinary everyday lives? Things are more trivial than they ever were, and more important than they ever were, and the difference between the trivial, and the important doesn’t seem to matter much. But the ‘nowness’ of everything is absolutely wondrous. That’s all I have for today, unless you want to know more about stepping on a needle, and I’m going to assume that’s a no. Oh well, I’m just getting ready to not go out. Night is closing in and I’ve got all those lima beans to arrange. |
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