MY FEET IN THE SAND: Walk A Mile With My Fingers And Toes...

A Facebook Friend recently posted a picture of a woman seated on the subway, her hands laid in front of her, atop packages, remarkably darker than her face.  The thread's author immediately assumed the woman had to have been bleaching her skin and admonished her in his pseudo-Pan Africanism-way.

I hadn't revealed my condition publicly so I didn't comment.  However I swiftly clicked the like button, once a brave soul intimated that perhaps, the woman hadn't bleached her skin.  Perhaps, the woman had undergone chemo which has the propensity to turn one's hands and/or nail beds much darker than one's original pigmentation.


My outgrowing dark nail bed

MY FEET IN THE SAND: You Don't Know What You Don't Know...

photo courtesy of National Geographic

If someone walked up to you and said YOU, I need brain surgery.  The likelihood of you being a brain surgeon would probably be slim.  And if you are not a brain surgeon, you'd say no.  I don't know how to do that.  You might be able to refer one to a hospital or in fact a surgeon but you know you don't know how to perform surgery.

Now think of your profession, career, expertise or hobby.  I will use me as an example.  If someone asked me to write something, a letter, a speech (my mother often contracts me for letters for her although I live 3000 miles away) I could do it all day long.  If I needed to get your butt out of the nearest exit on the plane, I also could do that and if you wanted peanuts, well refer to above, because I know I can't do that.  My point, what you know, you know you know.  If you are a butcher, a baker or a candle stick maker, you know what you know.  Whether you're good or not is up for debate but you know.

Imagine this and ponder the concept, you know what you know.  Now ponder this, there's a vast world out there, a world of you don't know what you don't know