Archive for category Hands
A co-worker said to me he thinks he knows why I have hand tremors. “You’re a super hero. But you hold back your powers.” I’ve had a number of theories for why my hands tremble: it’s genetic, a blood-sugar-thing, lack of discipline, poor motor skills, excessive fear, a traumatic memory, hyperactive glands, hyperactivity… none of these is entirely true on its own. But I have to think about this new one: my Powers are restricted. As in tied down, like Prometheus. Brilliant abundant power pushed down below and held there never to see the light of day. The volcano shudders without erupting. Maybe. Probably just a nervous disposition.
My trembling used to be a source of shame that led me to dominate my hands, binding them ever tighter. Make them still like patient crane fishing in pond (haiku?). But it didn’t work. I only identify with cranes in flight. My co-worker might be on to something. The energy that is my hands need to be ex-pressed (pushed out) not repressed or suppressed (pushed down and under). That’s why I’m at once excited and terrified about the barista training I’m about to begin. It calls for couth hands. As nimble as a violinist, steady as a marksman. My hands are about as nimble and steady as a water balloon being filled with a fire house.
I have to toot my own horn and expound the benefits of hypersensitivity. When a meteor strikes a planet in a distant solar system, sending shockwaves in concentric circles for billions of light-years, it’s We the Sensitive who wake up in the middle of the night with a vague sense of something timeless. On the other hand/s, we’re flighty. Easily de-stabilized. My tendency has been to (try to) make myself as stable as possible. To cultivate a placid disposition. And people who meet me (sometimes) think I’m unflappable. Peaceful. Ha! Just because the surface of the ocean is smooth as a mirror doesn’t mean a giant squid isn’t below strangling a whale. But who am I kidding. Some of you know I can’t hide my emotions worth shit.
I’m considering taking beta-blockers, a medication that arrests physiological responses to adrenaline. It could be the silver bullet. Part of me resists the idea, thinking that if I can just exercise greater mastery over myself, my hands will not shake. But I’ve tried that for years, waging war against myself, restraining what I cannot control, turning my hands of fire into ice- that has been the problem- not accepting I’m a super-hero and unleashing the dormant force. Part of me also fears that the meds would mellow me out. Push the frenzy so far down I won’t be able to reach it. I might miss my hands shaking. They’re like a tuning fork I clatter against reality in order to tune myself. Eh. Let’s try it! If the meds are a problem I can always stop. The Hands aren’t going anywhere. Why does this feel like I’m coming out?