As I work my way through the messiness of life, I’m taking advice from the "Mother of Mindfulness."

“Put certainties aside and tune-in.”

“By recognizing that there are multiple ways of understanding virtually everything, over time we become less judgmental.”

“The ways we are taught are good approximations, but then make it your own.”

—Ellen Langer, PhD

I’ve been putting this thing off. Kind of hoping it would go away on its own. Turns out, I have to do something about it. More candles on the birthday cake means gifts and celebration and also a gentle acceptance that my body is wearing down.

I have a ganglion cyst on my right index finger. This little cyst fills up with fluid and looks like an angry blister, then it ruptures and leaves me with a sore spot, an open wound that could become infected. It heals over and then the process starts all over again. I’ve lived with this nuisance since April, wearing a Hydroseal Band-aid most all the time. Ganglion cysts (many people have them on their wrists) are tricky because there is a stem that reaches down to the joint. They are really a manifestation of arthritis in the joint whereby the capsule of the joint weakens and fluid leaks out. Because the joint is involved and needs to be debrided, treatment requires a hand surgeon.

Really, surgery seems like overkill for this relatively minor problem. But there it is.

My surgery is this afternoon. I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday evening, so I hope this post makes sense. For most of us, a surgery involving the right index finger would be an inconvenience, but not a huge deal. But, for a photographer, well . . . that’s the shutter-pressing, dial-turning finger. The very important mouse-clicking, typing finger. I’m hoping for a swift recovery. My friend Cathy managed to take pictures and post with a broken right wrist, and she’s my inspiration. I’ve got this.

“Some of us are archetypal late bloomers. And sometimes we have the most interesting stories of them all.”

—Annie Wright, Relational Trauma Therapist