Balls!

“I dust off my Ben Wa balls, don my 1980s RoadRunner gloves and head down the boulevard for my morning run.”

After finishing that first sentence on a day set aside for inspired writing, I thought I should go online to see if I had spelled the name of my cloisonné-coated jingly things correctly. I was horrified, for several reasons, when I started seeing references to “pelvic floor strengthening” and other not-so-G-rated descriptions of uses for the pretty things.

Evidently, the correct term for the gift I was given years ago by an old family friend—a guy—to help with hand and finger flexibility is “Baoding balls,” completely different from the name that, for whatever reason, came to my mind first. Huge LOL. If “the gift” had been of the other type, I would not have been holding them during my run—in my hands.

So why did I decide to run with those digital dexterity tools? According to Lawrence C. Katz, Ph.D. & Manning Rubin, authors of Keep Your Brain Alive, purposefully mixing unexpected textures, sounds, smells, and tastes to daily routines can fire up all kinds of activity in your brain, and who doesn’t want an active brain when writing?

I dropped one almost immediately as I maneuvered the two in my right hand while running on the tarred road. It jingled as it crashed and rolled. I panicked for a moment, chastising myself for being so clumsy with a valuable treasure. Perhaps it was okay? But no, a large chunk of the lovely enamel cracked off, revealing the inner metal casing. A metaphor, I think.

I lifted the damaged ball and continued my downhill run, suddenly smiling as I recognized in myself my son’s innate curiosity about the tensile strength of things. I had been nervous about the durability of the jingle-balls, which is probably why they had remained in their padded box for years. Now that I knew the answer, I felt relieved. I could do an easy repair at home with some nail polish.

On the dirt road (if I had dropped it here I would not have made a discovery) I rotated the balls clockwise then counterclockwise, right hand then left, I held one in each hand trying to keep them silent while I ran, I squeezed them, balanced them and even considered running with one in my mouth—but feared how the headlines of my death would read the next day.

The time passed quickly and I was surprised when I reached my designated turn-around point. It was all uphill back to the house and I needed to pee. A quick look-around confirmed I was all alone, and the ditch by the side of the road was convenient. Tossing the balls in my hood, I dropped my drawers and took care of business quickly . . . but then I lingered . . . the crisp air, the warm sun, the sense of accomplishment . . .

So I lingered longer as I determined that every derriere deserves more than a moment in the sun. I committed that line to memory, wishing I had brought along a notepad for my off-keyboard inspirations.

By the time I got home, I decided not to repair the damaged ball. The irregular texture would add an element of complexity to the balls which would make my brain work harder the next time I sat down to write.

My takeaway tidbits:

1. Carry a notepad/recorder everywhere.

2. Remember that all material things are transient.

3. Enjoy a bit of sunshine when and where you can!