Disable A Disability

Who do you think has the most difficult disability in the world to deal with? Is it the paraplegic who's stuck in a wheelchair, the quadriplegic who's also stuck in a wheelchair but who can't do things as basic as scratch his or her nose or ring a doorbell? Is it a blind or deaf person? Is it a brain damaged person with anger tendencies? Is it a bi-polar person with radical mood swings or schizophrenics who can't get a moment to themselves?

Is the hardest disability to live with a physical disability or is it a spiritual disability where one's attitude makes his or her problems a problem for everyone around them? An attitude disability is more isolating than a physical disability. Isolating not only from other people but from any peace of mind. Thankfully, when I became willing, I found my attitudinal disability to be easier to fix than my physical disability. All I needed is acceptance. Acceptance is the solution to all my problems. If I am unhappy, it is because I find something about my life unacceptable. Fear makes me unhappy. How can I accept fear? OK, let's think about it. There's only two things in this world to be afraid of. Losing something I have or not getting something I want. By choosing to accept that I am not in control and that I don't know what's best for me, I find that happiness is always within reach. It takes work, but I do it, and if I can do it, anyone can.

My motorcycle crash turned me into a hemiplegic, which means one side of my body is paralyzed. To me, the hardest aspect of the disability I found myself saddled with upon awakening from the month long coma was accepting my new situation and losing the negative attitude of self pity I had acquired.

For years, after my crash, I saw my life as a grotesque painting, an abstract of collection of crisis after crisis, framed by catastrophes and unfortunate circumstances. My negative thoughts made my days seem gloomy, and my need for approval filled me with nameless fears. Without someone to tell me that I was OK, I didn't know who I was, what I was or why I was.

Judging from the suicide rate and the number of people on anti depressants, quite a few people consider their lives to be hopeless collections of unfortunate circumstances. The purpose of this post is to announce two things:

1. I've discovered a path that leads me to a freedom from fear and other attitude problems. Since discovering that path, I've discovered that the only way for me to keep what I've found is for me to give it away. In other words, I NEED to help anyone stuck in negativity like I was discover how incredibly cool it is to find a path to freedom.
2. Honestly, if I can hobble down this path, anyone can.
   
   Relationships with God/self/others
   
   Bill W., co-founder and main author of AA literature said, "Learning how to live in the greatest peace, partnership and brotherhood with all men and women, of whatever description, is a moving and fascinating adventure." 12 Steps and 12 Traditions, step 8, p. 77"
   
   The 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous are instructions that changed me from an angry, resentful man who was full of self pity and fear to a man who is full of peace and who can get along with nearly anyone. Following the program of AA takes work in order to benefit and grow. Like anything else, I get out what I put in.
   
   Like I've discovered the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous to be, God's law is a source of peace and lasting happiness. Having grown up in a Christian home and having gone to Christian schools, I considered my thinking on God to be quite well informed, and God seemed way too controlling for my taste. Having my thinking aligned, by the folks in AA, in less of a short sighted, self serving format showed me that thinking of God as controlling is like thinking that Toyota or Maytag are controlling because their manuals tell you how to get the best use out of their machines. Is anyone surprised that Maytag won't honor their warranty if you use sand instead of laundry detergent or that Toyota won't honor theirs if you use Elmer's glue instead of oil? Who thinks of them as controlling?
   
   Just like Maytag creates washers and dryers, Toyota creates cars and trucks, God creates men and women. Just like Maytag and Toyota have owners' manuals that tell users how to get the best use out of their machines, God gave me rules that tell me how to get the best use out of the life I’ve been given. Would it make sense for him to turn me lose without telling me how to get the best possible use out of the life He gave me? Would it make any sense for me to ignore the instructions I’ve been given?
   
   The greatest and most helpful command, instruction or insight God ever gave me regarding my relationships with other people is summed up in the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. God's instruction is to "Love my neighbor as I love myself." How brilliant is that? In other words, God tells us how to have friends and lasting relationships.

Just do it!

Rain like a heavy mist fills the air. As part of my daily exercise, I'm tottering around the block with my cane held off the ground. The neurosurgeon at Harborview Hospital said I would never walk without a cane. I don't care what they think. I'm gonna do it! My emotional reaction to what the doctors said throws me off balance. I can’t get my cane down quick enough and the cold wet concrete speeding toward my face doesn't slow before slamming into my cheek.

“Huh!” Fireworks explode behind my eyes as I cover my bruised face with my good hand and roll off the sidewalk. I lie on the wet grass and try to convince myself that once I learn to walk again, it'll all be worth it. Blood coming from a gash under my eye is sticky on my fingers.

A young woman and her young son are walking behind me. Well, it's probably her son. I can't be sure. Maybe she found him in the park. Anyway, I know they’re close so I try to scramble to my feet like nothing’s wrong, but my throbbing head stops me. I lay back, trying catch my breath. I don’t much mind falling. I’m actually used to it, but I hate falling in public. I hate having people feel sorry for me. The woman and kid stop. I lift my head and try to smile at them.

“Are you OK, sir?” she asks.

I try to sound cheerful, like nothing’s wrong, “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

The woman hears my speech impairment and looks horrified. She grabs the kid’s hand. “Come on Billy. He’s drunk!”

They hurry off up the hill. I lie there a few more minutes catching my breath, then scramble to my feet and follow after them. Holding my cane off the ground, I’m repeating the phrase my speech therapist gave me.

“WINNERS don’t quit. Winners DON’T quit. Winners don’t QUIT!”