Hands are for helping and holding.
We use them to touch, and they allow us to feel.
You learn a lot from a person’s hands. Are they calloused, or manicured? Is there a ring, or a tan line or indent where one used to be? Do they tremble or are they steady and still? Is there an energy emanating from them drawing you in?
It’s funny how sometimes too many hands in the pot can muddle.
Yet, too few can feel empty, alone and overwhelming.
As a self-confessed control freak I often feel that there is a surplus of hands. But lately, I’d have to admit there are never enough. Something is always missing these days. I just can’t seem to juggle it all. And on those hard days, which are more frequent as of late, there is no hand to hold or reach for to help me up.
Not in the way there once was.
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