The sound of one hand clapping.
Or being an artist living with a broken wrist.
I slipped on a steel plate in the sidewalk and my life is changed. Wrist broken. Many things come to a complete stop. Copper repousse paintings. Screening relief tryptic. Fiber work. Yoga class. Driving a car. Weights.
With the holidays around the corner, there's a lot I can't do either. Decorate. Bake. Wrap.
What I can do. Write. Draw. Read. Surf the internet. Walk the dog. Watch movies. Observe the world outside my window and inside my mind. I can collect images to use later. I can consider my work from a new angle. I can work on my story, a little more slowly, but maybe that's a good thing.
I can also delegate and accept help. Both hard things for me to do. Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned here. With help, the holiday tree is up, the house decorated, cookies are being baked. My children are now helping me tie my shoes instead of me helping them. But they are learning too, like how to make their favorite Tuscan Bean Soup and Shortbread as well as how much goes into all the pretty decor, tree and wrapping that they've enjoyed for so many years.
They are learning some things they need to know because I'm not able to do it all for them. And I'm learning some things that I need to know, too, because I'm not able to do it all for myself.