versus

brachydactyly
that's the official name for my short, stubby thumbs. when i was younger, i tried to tuck them out of sight as much as possible; but in adulthood i ceased to give a damn. that is, until now. because now my left thumb is in ridiculous pain and i'd much rather blame its clubness than the excessive hours of tennis i'm subjecting it to.

haley and i played over five hours this weekend, despite both of our injuries and a heat index around 100, and when i woke up this morning and couldn't hold tweezers or luke's hand, i did pause and wonder if it was wise. i left the house for work and then returned for heavy duty anti-inflammatory medicine ten minutes later.

quite nearly a virgin to the game when haley got her hands on me, she's been evangelizing the doctrines of The Inner Game of Tennis. i've started reading the book myself and i'm a convert.

self one versus self two.
the coaching, criticizing mind vs the knowing, natural body.
shut up, self one. do what you know, self two.

if i were listening to self two, nevermind how it would help my stroke, i'd probably have heard, don't play tennis with an injury. rest is what you need. but in between, where'd your follow-through go?, bounce, hit and keep your eyes on the ball, self one was barking play through the pain, take more advil, and quit complaining!!

alas, i turned a deaf ear to self two and now i regret it. and when i pulled into work today, i thought to myself that maybe it's a lesson i needed to hear. all the regulating and critiquing and worrying that i let self one insert blocks the fluidity and instinct and ease with which self two can transport me through life.

so as i'm walking into uncertainty, life hurling balls at me, maybe i'd do better to quiet the voice of self one and let self two take over. hitting some straight on, letting some fly by, and flubbing others the best i can.

d: recovery from tennis injuries.
b: self two is quite wise.
g: an inner match that i'm certain i can win.