This past summer I broke my finger. All things considered, it was not too bad. I broke the pinky finger on my non-dominant hand, not my wrist, my arm, my leg, or some other major body part. I could still write and do most things with my other hand. Of all fingers to break, the little finger is the one you want.
Still, it was frustrating. I injured my finger playing a sport I had no interest in playing while on reserve duty (one of those command performances). Not my idea, in other words. It was tempting to place the fault on anyone but myself, which is unproductive and only leads to feelings of anger and resentment. No, I would not have broken my finger if I had not played the sport, but what happened was just one of those unlucky accidents.
What I did not anticipate is how much my pinky finger impacted my daily life. To be fair, for the first week, I wore a splint that ran from my fingers to my elbow. The splint gradually decreased in size as my bone healed, but nonetheless: Dressing was slower. Cooking with one and a half hands was more challenging. Keeping my splint dry and clean meant that simple tasks became complex tasks. The morning routine that I had down to an exact science no longer worked. Our household calculates our lives nearly to the minute, especially during those precious early morning hours, so our entire system was thrown off. I learned in my follow-up appointments that I would be going to the doctor for weekly x-rays and would need occupational therapy three times a week. Rehabbing the finger became a part-time job.
All of this of course happened when I was most looking forward to slowing down. July was going to be the month of rest and quiet and calm. I had carefully guarded the calendar to keep it clear, and suddenly my mostly white-space month became littered with OT and doctor appointments. The margin I had so intentionally created became absorbed by finger therapy and adjusting to new ways of doing tasks with one and a half hands. Again, I am so grateful that the injury was not more serious; it was just temporarily (but notably) inconvenient.
Do you know Parkinson’s Law? Work will expand to fill the time allotted for its completion? The implicit message of this adage is that we are uncomfortable with too much free time. Now, I certainly do not think I subconsciously broke my finger on purpose so that I would not have to figure out how to fill or enjoy my July of white space. But I do think that life has a funny way of revealing our pain points. I had the time to give to the finger rehab and appointments but I was so frustrated because I had different ideas about what I would be doing. I had been expecting that gloriously blank month of July to do too much, to hold too many of my deferred plans. I had a list of things I wanted to do—read magazines, cook new recipes, seek voluntary PT to improve my squat form (this one is particularly ironic—I did PT all right, just different than what I had in mind), work on my yoga inversions…that list required some serious rewriting.
Thankfully, come August, just before school started and a busy fall kicked off, I had full use of my finger again. My slow summer never materialized, but I now have better ideas about setting my pace for next summer (and the rest of the year)—namely, to spread out work and rest more equitably. There is a natural ebb and flow to the calendar. Fall gets crazybusy, the holiday season comes with parties and events and family gatherings, after Christmas slows down a bit until the energy of the spring returns, and then we reach the lazy days of summer. My lesson from all of this is not to defer too long. Don’t wait. Summer is not the only time for reading magazines and doing yoga.
I always am wary of people who say they will get around to something when “life calms down” because as we all know, life never calms down. There is always more that needs doing. Emergencies and unexpected events regularly arise. For most of us, if we keep waiting for free time, it will never come. Free time does not just happen; it must be created, and create it I will.