The Nitty Gritty: Closing a Car Door After Ten Years
It doesn’t sound like much.
Closing a car door.
It’s the kind of thing you do without thinking. You reach out, grab the handle, pull it in, and move on with your day.
But for me, it had been over ten years since I’d done that with my left arm.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped trying.
Not in a dramatic way. Just gradually. Quietly. You adapt. You figure out what works, what doesn’t, and eventually you stop reaching for things that don’t respond the way you expect them to.
So closing a car door became a one-sided task. Automatic in a different way.
The other day, I got out of the car and, without really planning to, I reached back with my left arm.
There was a brief moment of hesitation. Not physical, just mental.
Like… is this actually going to work?
I positioned the hand. Made contact with the door. Started to pull it in.
And for a split second, I expected it to slip. Or stall. Or just not translate the way I wanted it to.
But it held.
Not perfectly. Not smoothly. But enough.
The door closed.
And I just stood there for a second.
Because it caught me off guard.
Not the movement itself, but what it represented.
It had been so long since my left side participated in something that used to be automatic, I didn’t realize how much I had written it out of the equation.
And now, suddenly, it was back in the conversation.
What people don’t see in moments like this is everything happening underneath it.
Where exactly to place the hand so the grip actually engages
How much force to apply without overcorrecting
How to time the pull so it doesn’t slip or feel disconnected
None of it is instinct yet. It’s all deliberate. Thought through in real time.
And even in a moment that feels like a win, there’s still that layer of uncertainty.
That quiet question in the background:
Was that repeatable, or did I just get lucky?
This is the part of the experience that doesn’t show up in demos or highlight videos.
The small, almost invisible moments that carry more weight than they should.
The mix of hesitation, surprise, and something close to relief when it works.
That’s what I want this series to be about.
Not just what’s possible, but what it actually feels like while you’re figuring it out.
The nitty gritty.
