The Gratitude of Adversity

(I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this, but hopefully I'm going in the basic direction.) J

Rahsaan Roland Kirk had been blind almost since birth. He composed and performed music often with more than one instrument; as in he used his mouth and his nose. Two years before he crossed he had a stroke that left him paralyzed on one side of his body, but continued to compose and perform. His music is jolly stuff.

Last year, I went to a convention and Kyle Maynard spoke. He was born with no limbs. He wrestled and played football in high school. He owns a gym in Georgia. He drives. He lives in a 3-story home (bedroom's at the top). He wrote a book about his life (New York Times Bestseller). He bear crawled up Mt. Kilimanjaro (Yes. Bear crawled.). The only things different from his life and yours is that he has a special chair in his kitchen to get to the sink, his truck is modified, and buttons are the bane of his existence (His words.). He focuses on the things that are good and right. Sound logic.

I remember a lady at my church who taught theater, singing, and dance. Her husband is a really nice guy and they have grown children. She suffered a series of strokes, and up until she couldn't communicate or move very much, she was in senior centers encouraging movement and joy (Yeah, I know that's a bit flowery, but it's a truer condensed version of what she did.) I give her mad props for "raging against the dying of the light." Her memorial service mirrored the joy she brought to the world. I am all the better for having known her.

My maternal grandmother gave birth to six children but she raised so many more. She was kind of the silent, "It takes a village." A model of hard work. She was a widow by the time I was born. She never lost her humanity. She cared for us fiercely. She told the funniest stories and one I put into a vignette.  I know how to iron. I dress like a lady. I love to cook for others (I twitch a little when the house isn't as clean as I'd like it when people come over, but it's better than not caring.). I quote her sometimes. It was disorienting when she crossed, but I knew what I could to honor her was to be the best I could be at ___________. At first I was a mess (and we'll talk about that in a minute.), but now that , 7 years later, I've gotten myself together and my perception of life is much, much clearer, I'm revisiting her words and what she did. She's a neat lady. I miss her presence, but she hasn't gone anywhere.

So the day after I posted the last blog, I was in the shower and thinking about my life. And I had to give myself some credit; I have survived a lot of crap. What prompted this thought was when I was in graduate school. My grandmother crossed the month before I started. The day after I started my first class, I was laid off from my job (the week before Thanksgiving so I had the feeling of failure and having to face my extended family.). I got high as much as I could. I stayed in my bathrobe a lot. To say that I was "disconnected" is the understatement of the century. By a miracle I have no right to fully claim, I graduated.

Compared to people I personally know, who have survived all of the things a human being can endure (from the "mundane" to the horrific) and NOT turn into a $h!thead, takes moxy. And it takes a person with that kind of moxy to be able to share their life, (whether with words and/or actions) not necessarily to others but FOR others.

So by the time I finished listening to Kyle's words I was in a place of "Okay, if I can accomplish so much limited by my addictions and fears years ago, I can accomplish so much more now that I'm no longer under that yoke," and then my inner rationalist kicked in, and the rest is, as they say, is history.