“He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity’s sunrise.”—William Blake

Yesterday I rolled down a hill and broke the scaphoid bone in my wrist. I’m now in a cast with limited use of my dominant hand, so today I had to accept the following:

• Everything I sign at work looks like it was endorsed by someone in kindergarten
• I need to learn how to use my mouse with my left hand
• I can only type slowly with two fingers, which is not ideal for a communications director
• It takes a very long time to get dressed in the morning
• There’s a good chance I will cut an artery in my neck while shaving with my left hand
• I will likely miss my next 3-4 races this year
• I have no idea how I will cook our family meals (or how we will eat for the next number of weeks)
• I’m in big trouble when R goes to Uganda in two weeks
• We have to cancel our annual family trip to the cabin in Haliburton this weekend
• I can’t write or draw with pens or pencils

The kids are quite disappointed about this weekend’s cancelled trip, and I’m feeling sad about missing my upcoming races, but there is nothing I can do at this point to change the fact that I have a broken wrist. Although I find great joy in family vacations, cooking and trail running, I can’t hold on to these things too tightly or I will end up depressed and/or bitter when they fly out of my hands. Joy comes in many forms, but I can’t keep it leashed or contained. I need to let go and surrender what I can’t control.

On a positive note, now I have a great excuse for not wearing a tie to work, and B was super excited to show my cast to his friends at school.