Note: This is the last installment in a weeklong intensive, with one or two exercises per day (which are bolded). Please, if you follow this series in full or part, share your valuable experience and reaction to the enemy. And of course, good luck!
I’m back in the same cafe, typing this more slowly than usual because last Saturday night I accidentally slammed my right index finger into a car door. Feeling ridiculous and also quite worried, I visited the ER. No broken finger bones, thank God, just the chance of losing a fingernail. They wrapped it up thick in gauze and told me to keep the injured digit above my heart for the next 48 hours. Naturally the next step was buying lots of ice cream with my roommate. I walked around the store, amplified finger held high, perpetually on the verge of pontification. I commanded aisle six. I recognize this constantly sore and wagging finger. It’s the enemy’s trademark gesture.
Over the course of the next week, Seattle succumbed to snow. The whole city shut down while the people of Capitol Hill tested the sledding capacity of such diverse objects as actual sleds, pizza boxes, air mattresses, cookie tins, and blow up dolls. I was home much more than usual, marveling at the stretch of quiet time. I reserved a corner of my attention for my index finger as it slowly started to heal. Bathing, brushing my hair, dishes, putting on a sweatshirt, daily life is a little more tender with this injury. I’m reminded constantly of the enemy which gives meaning to its presence. Watching out for it is helpful; in this time my psyche has shaken loose a few major assumptions and I’ve found myself writing differently, more slowly but with more freedom.
This is powerful stuff.
I take stock. I write three pages, front and back, repeatedly finishing the line What I’m noticing now is… Afterwards, I take a highlighter to it, noticing what hold interest, what holds power.