Closed Hand, Open Hand

I tend to be a person with a closed hand. As a natural introvert, I’ve always tended to need space of my own to reenergize. Add to that, as a teenager, we moved around quite a bit (4 states in two years between 8th & 10th grades). Throw those two things together and, at least for me, you get a person that is pretty reserved in relationships. It’s like I have something in my brain that says, “Hey, you’re going to move again soon anyway, so don’t count on this.” Never mind that I’ve now lived in one place for eleven years. (Surely that’s irrelevant, right)?

I find my hand is closed because it protects me. If I don’t place all of me on the table, then there’s a bit of safety in the wiggle room I’ve created for myself. And yet, I hear this beckoning for something more. I see the close relationships of people who have given years to each other in friendship and I wonder what that would be like.

But, then I shrink back again. An open hand is open to the fullness of relationship. It is also open to the hurt that comes when you’re standing in the middle of an open field during a lightning storm. Ouch, that’s gotta hurt!

There’s a song by Natasha Bedingfield that I’ve really enjoyed lately called “Wild Horses”. There a line in the chorus that says, “Wild Horses I want to be like you. Throwing caution to the wind, I run free too.” I love that image. It sounds so beautiful and free. I imagine a warm beach and the horses running a long, their manes whipping in the breeze. The reality is that despite the freedom of the horses, not everything is a lovely jaunt on the beach. There are hurricanes, the constant hunt for food and the ever-present danger of being caught that make the life of a wild horse much less idyllic than this song supposes.

So, that’s the reality I need to navigate. As someone who believes in relationship, I have to be willing to open my hand and accept both the beauty and the pain that arises in that vulnerability.