terrypetersen

The hand is the visible part of the brain. (Immanuel Kant)

Same person, skin, muscle, and bone. Yet, amazing the difference between a hand and a fist. Opened it can give and receive. Closed, tightened with anger, it becomes a weapon.

Clenched in stressful situations, the same fingers reflect fear.

I tried to take a picture of my left-hand last night. Arthritis and an imperfectly recovered fractured metacarpal led my unsteady digits to create a blurred mess. The final product landed as delete permanently. Moreover, the photo centered on veins, age lines, and cracked nails. An accurate view. But at any age, the same thumb and four fingers can reach out, even if touch doesn’t make it all the way to another person’s grasp.

My hands can fold together in prayer, wash a dish, make soup for someone who is ill. Or they can grab the remote control and ignore the ringing phone.

My brain makes the choice. Imperfect words state my intention.

(photo based on a public domain photo