Lesson Number Two

Variations on a Theme

In 2016 I broke three bones. The first was a mystery break in a small foot bone, brought on by nothing in particular, causing me to wear a protective boot for 6 weeks.  The second happened in Yosemite as I tried to boulder hop up to a water fall- broken bone in my left pinkie metacarpal, Velcro splint for 8 weeks. The third was up on my Maui roof, preparing to clean my solar panels, when I hit a patch of wet mold and went down (on the roof, not off the roof)- broken right thumb, splint for 8 weeks.

I don't do casts. doctors have to work around my
claustrophobia. So everything has to be able to
Come off/be loosened.

Since Ben’s accident and death, my awareness of possibilities and consequences has heightened. If I balance that plate there, it could fall; if I climb this ladder at this angle, I could fall; if I cut this branch, it could swing back and hit me. Until now, I have not been as cautious, wanting nothing to hold me back. But, while the reason for the consciousness is tragic, the attaining of it is nothing but good. And the three bone-breaks were but a further reminder that shit happens (and can keep happening unless I really sharpen my focus).

A drill bit broke on the drill press and flicked up
to hit me in the nose. Could there be a better
case for safety glasses?

With all of that in mind, and still nursing a tender right thumb, I set out on this project that would require total physical health and wellness. There were hazards galore: ladders, roofs, power saws, drills, nail guns.  Minute by minute I had to consider the horrible fate that might await me if I didn’t pay attention to EVERY SINGLE STEP on the ladder, didn’t level it underneath and check it up above. Every time I turned on the table saw, the chop saw, the band saw, the circular saw, the router, I envisioned lost digits, copious blood, trips to the emergency room, lost days of no work.

Kiva and Beau rock climb all over hither and yon. They have
convinced me that they are supremely careful. I'm thrilled that
they get to have these kind of experiences. Truly!

In general, I am not a worrier. With my girls growing up, I always wanted them to have the adventure, rather than sparing them the risks. Even at the time of Ben’s accident, I believed that everything would be all right. I still tend to believe that; but now I work to make it so. There’s a difference between being cavalier and mindful. The opportunities for adventure and new challenges still remain (although I have to say I am done with the more overt physically risky sports, having broken some bones while enjoying those as well).

I forgot to mention kneepads. 

In this potentially risk-filled endeavor I knew that injuries really needed to NOT be part of the picture. And they were kept to a minimum. Right at the beginning I learned the hazards of a big drill whose bit catches on that last bit of metal. Whack, one tender thumb gets a wrenching. No more of that, I called on Russel, whose extra brawn could control that torque. I used safety goggles and ear protectors and boots and pants and always a push tool for the table saw.

But most of all, the lesson was about focus. This was a place and a time for careful, controlled, thoughtful attention. Where being in present time had every sort of benefit.