Lately I feel my fingernails growing. Actively. The hard shell is pushing from the soft flesh, extruding the half-moon bit with its extra skin. I sense their tingle, the urge to move without choice, pressing forward. Summer has fuelled their momentum, and the B‘s I added to make them stronger seem to hold their end of the bargain. I constantly suppress the need to cut them immediately with every move I sense. The line-worker I am: they push, I clip.

My shortsightedness helps with my toenails. Out of sight, out of mind. They are a blurry mess in my periphery, and ultimately only the big and the small toe indicate that it’s time. The three in between could just quietly grow on forever, spinning their naily circles like fettuccine. Clipping reminds me that it’s time to return to my yoga practice or flex inherently more. There is simply no decent way to do this.

What’s your stretch?