doing my nails

on the season in which we live

I did my nails tonight.

It had been awhile, because … well … in mid-December, I didn’t want to waste any part of the nutritious breakfast smoothie I was making, and long story short, I put my finger in the blender to salvage some spinach. Not my proudest moment. That blender blade sliced up one fingernail rather impressively, so it’s taken awhile to get to the point of being able to do my nails again.

Jeff thinks “Blender Finger” would be a great name for a band.

So tonight, I finally pulled out my selection of nail wraps. I had ordered a bunch of them last summer, because shipping was free, and they were just so inexpensive and a little bit fun. I didn’t know it would be my last order.

But then “51st state” became a catch-phrase, and I wrote a polite email to the company I had been buying from (because there’s nothing more Canadian than writing a polite but firmly-worded letter) to inform them that I would no longer be buying their product, much as I liked it. They responded very kindly.

Such a tiny thing in a world full of Much Bigger Things. But strangely enough, that tiny thing had been a fierce little piece of self-care in what had been a fairly difficult season, and I’m a bit sad to give it up.

Fortunately, no need to change our brand of coffee.

It’s something, isn’t it? This season in which we live. It seems loud, with a lot of yelling voices. The demand that I become ever-more-outraged, offended, indignant, appalled. The temptation to think the worst of those with whom I profoundly differ. To harden my heart, because maybe there’s no room for softness anymore.

But I’m listening to “The Air We Breathe,” as I work away, doing thumbs first, leaving baby fingers until the end. I’m caught by this line.

“Compassion describes the life of Christ,

and it’s meant to describe the life of the Christian.”

So simple. I rewind and hear it again, a few times.

Earlier this year, I listened to “Unoffendable”. My goodness. Light, with a self-deprecating tone that invited me to lower my walls and nod along with a chuckle from time to time, until suddenly I realized the author was speaking directly to me, and he’s right, and darn it, now I need to process this a little.

Because boundaries are good, but hate is not. And anger is a legitimate feeling, but it’s not a great motivator for doing good. And doing good, by the way, is almost certainly not the same as doom-scrolling.

And, claims the author, choosing to be unoffendable - not naively, but intentionally, purposefully - is quite a freeing way to live.

So I did my nails tonight.

Outrage-free.

Peace to you. Sleep well, friends.