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It is never personal, you're not the protagonist

It's so easy to become offended. It actually comes pretty natural. Someone says something.  You feel it's directed at you Strong reaction follows No need to react, it's got nothing to do with you as a person Imagine some remarks about academic work versus manual one, a bit dismissive about the latter. You don't have a degree and never wanted one. You know very well it takes years of experience and training to do what you're doing. Talent is involved too, as some people do have "two left hands".  You still feel you should add something to the conversation, but not sure if it is going to be well-received. No need to enlighten the other party right now Most people think in terms of opposites. If it's not this, it's that and it can't be anything else. Certainty of one's convictions is also a form of self-reassurance that everything is stable in one's world. Other points of view cannot be allowed because they are disruptive. Cognitive disrup...

The Arm and the Grabber (how could you do this to me, part 2)

  Picking up litter, piece of cake. Before The Arm's insurrection, of course, and implicit dereliction of duty. A heavy blow to carrying out trivial tasks, like collecting various objects strewn all over the place (personal bad habit) or other people's leftovers (their bad eating habits, irrespective of age). The Arm and its Hand used to be able to pick even tiny bits of paper or specks of dust fluff (but that's another story, the OCD one). Much faster than the vacuum cleaner and instant disposal, true? Now The Arm is just hanging there, apparently recovering, although no traitor should be ever given the benefit of doubt. It has been replaced by a tool mostly seen outdoors, where brave people do their best to keep streets and parks clean by cleaning after lazy people's rubbish. Besides an increased sense of appreciation for cleaners' work, The Grabber comes with an unexpected benefit. It's a focus aid, it trains the eye and the working hand to turn picking up in...

THE ARM (how could you do this to me?) - act 1

Out in the wild, an injured leg or just paw bring about a quick exit from life. Hunting or foraging becomes difficult and soon after the predator turns into prey. Mankind has many flaws but limb injuries don't automatically mean an early death. They just transform living into a quasi-continuous experience of pain combined with sharp bursts of despair. This is even before dropping everything, realizing that lifting a paper towel is pretty hard and stains are the very sign of regression to baby-style eating. No one is totally in love with their body, but there must have always been an amicable relationship with the right arm, if born right-handed. After all, it's there for so many small and big actions. To have that right arm become  a disobedient and quarrelous servant, a traitor in one's own camp, that is so unfair. Double unfair, actually. Firstly, to its twin limb, now forced to do a crash course in tasks previously unknown (yes, wiping is among them). Then it's unfai...