Category Archives: Scabs and Other Body Parts

The human body is an amazing thing. The more we put it through, the more it heals itself…unless we get in the way.

Art of the Listen - Bench Talk, Scabs and Other Body Parts

Will we ever touch again?

Six feet away.

“Will we ever hug again?” is the question of the day. As we creep out of our seclusions, will the bright light of the sun maybe do away with the guy who put us there?

Are we touch deprived?

Will it be different now for friends who formerly met each other with a hug? For strangers who began a greeting with a handshake? Or even for that anonymous shopper in the store whose shoulder you used to touch briefly in order to pass by?

Will people continue to avert their eyes from each other in an effort to keep distance? Will their lips tense just the tiniest of bits as someone walks toward them with a smile?

When the masks come off…and they will…will we approach the world with invisible gloves still on?

Here’s what I think, as I muse on a bench six feet away from anyone else.

Yes. Most of us will come to hug or offer our hand in greeting again, despite the warnings. We may just do it a little differently.

Now we know about long distance communication. We picked up the phone and called old friends. We zoomed into family reunions, office meetings and support groups.

We learned the power of a “Like”. We shared intimate details of our lives with the world…such as the type of pyjamas we wear or the true color of our hair.

We shared our fears, our disdain, our loves…without leaving the house. We laughed out loud with others thousands of miles away.

We did touch each other.

Down the street, out there in the bright sun, I see people gathering again. Music booms from car speakers. Could it be the sidewalk looks almost crowded by comparison? It appears the distances are shrinking.

I hope we don’t forget the ways we learned to touch each other when we were six feet away. I would miss that closeness.

SKATE ON!

Darla

(As far as I know, the park bench above is a widely shared, photo-shopped piece of fun. Credit unknown.)

For more Darla or to receive future blogs, go to Darla’s website and touch base. www.darlatherollerderbyqueen.com

Art of the Listen - Bench Talk, Political Muck and Such, Scabs and Other Body Parts

WHAT ARE YOU SHARING TODAY?

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So, we no longer shake hands or hug friends at a gathering. This week I was taught we can only touch feet with shoes on, touch elbows, or just make a kind of queenly wave at each other as we come in the door.

I’m okay with that, I guess, as long as we can brandish a great smile at each other upon meeting.

But where’s the smile behind all those masks?

Don’t misunderstand.

We need to protect one another from spreadable diseases (even though I’m not sure the mask does all that….)

I liked this article today from a major news outlets (“Coronavirus: Does worrying increase your risk of getting sick?”} that asks: what exactly are we spreading?

“We’re in this fear state, but the fear state turns down the immune system. When you spread fear to your friends, it’s almost like spreading germs to them. You wouldn’t want people to do that to you. We shouldn’t do that to other people,” said David Ropeik.

So, just like a smile or a yawn, fear can also be contagious, he says.

Maybe we do need masks every once in a while, but you can always smile with your eyes.

SKATE ON!

Darla

Art of the Listen - Bench Talk, Scabs and Other Body Parts, True Derby

SKIN IS ONLY SKIN DEEP

We all have it, you know.

Skin.

Derby girls know it because it is easily bruised, scraped (especially when in touch with velcro or the track) and painted.

It makes up about 16% of your body weight and is comprised of about 64% water. It is your largest organ.

It is waterproof and i insulates the rest of your body from temperatures, sun, chemicals. All the many nerve endings in your skin keep your brain in touch with the world around you.

We need skin. And yet it is only .5 mm thick at its thinnest point (the eyes, as in crows feet) and 4 mm thick at its thickest parts (palms and soles).

So why do we make such a big deal deal over what the top part of those millimeters actually look like, as in making it the biggest part of one’s identity?

White skin, black skin, yellow skin, and so on.

Good skin, bad skin, wrinkled or smooth skin.

Thin skinned people, thick skinned people.

Tight skin, saggy skin

Skin is only skin deep. There’s a lot of stuff going on under it. And it pretty much looks the same for everyone.

I say we quit looking at skin as our identity.

Skin is only skin deep.

SKATE ON!

Darla

(See what’s under this painted bench in Santa Fe, NM. Just a bench.)

Art of the Listen - Bench Talk, Scabs and Other Body Parts

WEARING YOUR GREEN

Ay, it’s that month and time when the wee folk remind us how important it is to be ‘a wearing of the green.

So I’m thinking, as I ponder the sweetness of sitting on this grass bench, that probably that tradition is not truly about the color of your shirt or scarf,.. any more than the color of your derby team jersey says anything, really, about your personality and inner core strength

I’m thinking maybe the wee folk wanted us to remember what the green stands for.

(Well, dear, certainly we think of the Emerald Isle from wince the tradition is associated. And the green, green grass of home.  And the green of Spring, busting out all over.  And putting our toes in the lush, new grass coming up around us.  But maybe there’s more…)

What about the green we wear everyday in our own skins?

Going way back…say really way back to the old folk who gave us the colors emanating from the different parts of our body…we find the green of the heart.

Not the reddish hue of the organ beating regularly in our chest, but the color of the feelings coming out of our hearts. 

It’s the green of balance, unconditional love.  Love of one’s self.  Good health, happiness, prosperity and abundance  (like those shoots popping out everywhere).  Calm. Serenity.

And when its “off”, that green of the heart comes out as jealousy, greed, lack of self esteem.

I could go on, you know, but right now I’ll just relish this grass bench and have a nice sit.  Thanks to Sheryl for the lovely grass bench photo from Napier, New Zealand!

Have a wonderful March day and be wearin’ your glorious, green heart proudly!

SKATE ON!

Darla

Art of the Listen - Bench Talk, Scabs and Other Body Parts

UTI-the Utterly Terrible Insult

My dear reader,

There is one conversation that rarely comes up on my benches.  But once it does, I will tell you the subject will be discussed in minute detail and usually accompanied with grotesque facial expressions.

It has to do with the Utterly Terrible Insult, or UTI in medical shorthand.  You may look it up if you don’t know immediately of what I speak.   If you are one of my female followers, you will need no reference resource.  If you are one of my dear male readers and are perplexed, start by researching the acronym, because it is not necessarily gender specific.

Or ask your favorite female.

Oh my, it is quite the conversation starter!

I consider myself,  in general, to be quite the Warrior Woman.  Many spills, bruises and breaks along the way, from which I emerged unshaken.   But the UTI has the unique capacity to bring any woman, or unfortunate man, to one’s knees, pleading forgiveness for some unknown infraction that brought this Insult.  It may indeed be responsible for the phrase, “give me liberty or give me death”.

I best describe this insult as close quarters with knives.  Oh yes, I see a few heads nodding in agreement.

There are natural responses to the Insult, if one wishes to grit one’s teeth before entering the ladies room, where it is recommended you go frequently.  But, generally, it makes one crawl to the waiting room of the closest medical clinic where you must undergo a long list of questions before you get the blessed relief.

Questions like:

“How would you describe the pain from 1 to 10?”

Answer:  “49”

“Are you sexually active?”

Answer:  “ Compared to what?  Rabbits?  Teenagers?  Celibate priests?”

“Are you now or were you ever a smoker?”

Answer:  “When I was a teenager.”

“How long ago was that?”

Answer:  “Really?  Did you not see my Medicare card?  Please give me the pills.”

After each conversation about the Insult, I wonder, who came up with the UTI.   Someone must have had a fierce sense of humor to invent this one.

Nonetheless, if you can’t find anything else to talk about with someone, try the UTI.   It will get things going.

Skate On!

Darla

(Someone please save this beat up bench on the bus stop corner down the road!)

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