Hands and Feet: A Story of Tolerance for Adversity

This was a summer of adventure.

This summer, I met a man who loved hands. The way they moved, their nimbleness and strength; they absolutely fascinated him. I know what you’re thinking, because I thought it too – what a nut. But once he began to explain himself it actually made a lot of sense, and I found myself looking a lot closer at a very underrated and underappreciated part of me.

Even as I write this now, I’m watching my fingers fly across the keyboard in much practiced motions; or my pointer fingers at least, I never actually learned how to type with the rest. After this, I’m going to pick up my mug of Mate tea, wash some plates, and potentially head to the trails for a ski while the sun is shining. Point is, my hands, these dull, everyday hands, are the things that are going to get me there. Before chatting with this man, I had never really appreciated how much my hands (and my feet for that matter) do for me each day. From sun-up to sundown, whether it’s filled with triumphs or trials, they’re always involved – carrying me across the landscapes and intricately weaving the stories together. I think we tend to take them for granted (I know I do), but looking at the photos from the past few months I’m really starting to appreciate these bad boys. I mean, I was exceptionally cruel to them this summer. I mashed my swollen, puffy toes into frozen hiking boots each day for almost a month. I spent weeks taping up my fingers and jamming the entire shebang into sandpaper-like cracks to get me up a wall of rock. I lost a toenail to a flip and swim on a set of rapids. I sprained a finger trying to hang onto a smaller-than-necessary hold on a climb; and they took it all like champs, bouncing back and healing up quickly so I could abuse them some more. I don’t think there is any climb that I wouldn’t trust them with, no mountain they couldn’t scale. So go on, give your hands and feet a hug, buy them flowers just because, take them out to dinner…because really, where would you be without them?

Truth is, no matter where you’re going out here, it is your hands and feet that’ll get you there.



2 Replies to “Hands and Feet: A Story of Tolerance for Adversity”

  1. So Dani, take good care of them, otherwise you will not be able to go to where you want to go. And it sounds like there are a lot of place you still want to go to. Be safe.


  2. Dani,
    Love hearing about the places you go, the people you meet and the dirt (or water) beneath your feet. The more bruises, scrapes and cuts both physically and mentally we endure shape us. These wounds are our most impactful stories, and as they heal become our most vivid memories to be cherished for a lifetime.

    Keep living strong and free.


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