In an effort to avoid sleepless nights from Brain Drain, I’m breaking out of my routine. Yesterday I made soup—blindfolded.
I was amazed to find that my feet knew my kitchen even when I couldn’t see. I tried not to think about how to get from the refrigerator to the sink. I walked and stopped; and who-woulda-thought— the sink was right there! It was the same with the drawers. The stove. The utensils.
Perhaps it’s called “muscle memory.” But whatever the file in the brain is called, it has recorded all my steps to familiar places. (I wonder if I can tap into this process to find my lost keys? Maybe my feet remember where I put them.)
I was pretty smug until I started using the knife. Even moving slowly, it frightened me. I waited until Scout got home so he could take me to ER if I mistook a finger for a carrot. I’m not sure which was more interesting: chopping veggies blindfolded or Scout’s on-going commentary. Well, the soup was good, but had rather large veggies in it.
Since I was so worried about hacking off my digits yesterday, today’s experiement was: NOT USING MY RIGHT HAND.
Yes, I’m typing this hunt & peck style. And let me say: I’m thankful for spell check. Having no right hand has made me become very creative in finding “work-arounds.” Elbows, toes, hips, and knees become important players in hefting, sweeping, and opening doors. I’m even looking forward to the next laundry day when I can actually fold with 2 hands. ( Funny how I take little things for granted.)
So here’s the sweet little secret I’ve learned so far: Like a movie, our brain knows the script and if we rest the main actors of our body (our hands and eyes), then the other characters get a chance to star.
What a wonderful creation we are…and that gives me hope.
Tommorrow? I’ll try life without speaking.