X

Accept Being Called “Inspiring.” We Represent Adversity

CREATING ROLLING JOY FOR ALL

Look! It’s right there on the homepage:

The mission of PUSHLiving is “…to elevate disability culture beyond charity and inspiration, to one of real inclusion and opportunity.”

There is a fair amount of discussion in the disabled community asking, “why should we be the example, the pitied, or the inspiration?”

Some take offense to these stereotypes; understandably so.  We all want to realize and achieve as much independence as we can. Necessary and noble. 

What else can we do to alter the habitual view people may have of us and, particularly, our own view of how we see and are seen.

Can we for a moment, because we were thrust into a recognizably difficult aspect of life, make it our chance to change perceptions?

By changing our actions, changing our perceptions, accepting the actions and perceptions of others, we may change their view of us, society, the world…..themselves…..for the better.

Be the ray of light. Accept being called inspiring. We represent adversity. Set a baseline for those that suffer the big, and little, stuff.

Give that positivity freely. Because much is given to us.

So shine, if you can, in public. Brood, when you must, in private.  This is not a call to hide the undeniable truth of our feelings. It is a choice, and a chance, to lift the spirits of able-bodied strangers. 

Your days will be brighter. Your nights will be lighter. For you will have positively affected those that witness your Joy.

Find unbridled excitement in the smooth, open spaces where you can move your wheelchair as fast as you can make it go.  Also, show your unperturbed acceptance of those unmanageable sidewalk rises and cracks. Eighty percent of the time you’ll find the detour, you were forced to take, a much-welcomed journey. Yet another change in perspective.

Accept help, or sincerely appreciate the effort, from all that offer.  It is not easy for them to muster the courage to ask. I guarantee you will realize they’re doing it not out of pity, but in the altruistic spirit with which we should always treat each other. 

The unspoken joy that a person gets by holding a door for you, helping you reach something at a store, making room for you they wouldn’t make for most-able bodied people; this is a gift to them in which you are also on the receiving end. Reciprocity abounds, grows, accumulates, and ripples on forever. 

So be the Joy. The Smile for them. The one that acknowledges their Presence.

You’ll soon realize that they may need and benefit from it just as much as you.

Comments

comments

Ryan Voss: After college I got into the restaurant industry and lived in L.A. for five years, SF for four, Lake Tahoe five, Maui for a year and a half, Greece for a summer, Lithuania for a winter and spring, Santa Fe for four years, Napa for seven, and now Redding. I've done everything on a "physical" level I've wanted, so now I counsel new injuries, write, do graphic design and still get into nature as often as possible. I volunteered in palliative care for a year before starting Mustard That Matters. So it happened in Santa Fe(2005). I just finished a beautiful mountain bike ride with both my brothers and then we came upon a skateboard park. I dropped into it without having any clue how to do the transfer and flipped over on top of my head from about 10 feet. I immediately knew I had broken my neck and knew my life would change forever. Thankfully I had spent many years studying Buddhism and impermanence so I was immediately able to accept this new reality. I was never to move again, but after two months I finally moved my thumb. Spent another three months in rehab and regained some trunk control and a small amount of useable movement in my legs and arms. Just really glad that I can actually feed myself, drive, and be content with the limited physical ability. It has been 14 years since the start of this amazing experience in adapting to, and living with, a spinal cord injury(C/5). There is a deep feeling of gratitude that runs through me in seeing the selfless, altruistic spirit in all those that have been a tremendous help and support in my recovery all the way down to the stranger that drops everything to open a door so I may proceed unobstructed. I've lived a grand life. It never ceases to amaze and impress me.