I have been set on Fire!

   Call the fire department, have them put out the safety nets. There is no telling what I will do next now that I have been released from the fear of not living up to my own expectations! What? Where did this come from?

    This week I asked my religious education class to close their eyes and visualize the person I was about to describe. (If you read my previous post-please don't spoil the surprise for others.) They all closed their eyes (aren't 4th graders trusting?) and I described a person who was 7 feet tall, weighed 250lbs, very muscular and could bench press over 500lbs. This person could also run up and down flights of stairs, carrying armloads of stuff, sprint over long distances without becoming tired, then come home and put a new roof on the house. Then the guessing began. They guessed everyone from real sports figures to imaginary superheros. When they ran out of guesses I stood up and asked them why they did not recognize me?  The "Ah-ha" moment came for them (and me), when one little girl responded that it was because the description wasn't of me at all. I was their teacher and did not look like anything I described and she did not think I could do most of the stuff I said either. I did not need to be any of those things, or do that stuff to be a teacher. That stuff doesn't make me who I am. Just being me and doing what I can do was enough for them. Wow. What a defining moment for me. Who knew 4th graders were so smart? And who in their right mind put me in charge of teaching them?!?!

     I had already begun a journey of self-examination over the last week. Just what was it that defined me? My physical abilities? What I did for a job? My parental status or the fact that I own a bird? How about where I live or what I drive or what my income is? You bet ya, all of those things. They say who I am...or at least who I am at the moment. Well, maybe who I want to be?

Out my office window

     Someone once told me that they had to find themselves. I told them to get a road map. So here I am, map spread out on the desk, figuring out just where the heck I am. Physically the map indicates that I am just outside of Chicago, under several inches of snow and ice and muck, planted somewhere between several major expressways that could possibly take me to someplace that has less of the cold crap hanging off all the trees and covering all the rooftops.

     Okay, the snow is pretty to look at. Enjoy the picture from out my window. Now can we get rid of it? I promise, I will post pretty pictures of warmer stuff!

     So geographically, I have knowledge of where I am. Good, I hate to be lost. It might mean I would have to ask for directions. But what about the rest of the definition? What makes me who I am? According to the 4th graders, part of it is my physical looks and ability.  I am sure that part of the equation is where I live, what I drive and what I earn. Heck, a sane person would live somewhere warmer. Like Alaska.

     Maybe a bigger part of me is what I can offer, even indirectly, and who I will become. Whoa, that is heavy. Think I will take a breather and go shovel the drive. Or at least try and shovel the drive. Did I mention that the white stuff covering the ground is heavy? Or that the metal snow shovel is heavy without any snow in it?

     An easier version for me to swallow is that I am who I was created to be, who I have been and who I will become. I was created from pure love. There is no expectation that I will be great, wealthy or even mildly intelligent. What a relief! I think I am going to like the new bible study that we are about to embark upon.  

     As I look at, Life, the Universe and Everything, I discover that who I am and who I once was are one and the same, just different. I still have that odd sense of humor that sometimes makes people take a step back and check for the exits. I still like to turn up my favorite song and sing along at the top of my lungs, albeit off key. But once upon a time I did this all by myself. Now I can embarrass the dickens out of a ten year old!

    I grudgingly admit that I just can't climb stairs the way I used to. I still need recognize the probability that this will get worse over time. I have a limp that goes from barely noticeable to incredibly horrible, causing people to think that I am drunk as I weave my way down the street. (You will know if I am really drunk - that is when I will let myself to be propelled between two other people.) I can still help others, but sometimes it is by letting them do something for me, allowing them to feel better about themselves. Thank you to one of my favorite bloggers - Wheelchair Kamikaze for putting this into words for me.
   
     In my last post, I noted that I was trying to learn to accept help from others. I knew this Lent goal would be difficult for me with my super-size Ego. I suspected that I would have to evaluate who I really was. I did not know I would have to give up so much of what I thought I had to be to achieve this goal. And I had no clue that I would have to be HONEST WITH MYSELF. Fortunately, honest with the general public does not seem to be a requirement. No, I did not know once I started on my journey, that it would gain so much momentum in such a short amount of time. If I had any sense, I would probably be frightened. Don't worry, I lack that prized element.

    I think I mentioned before that being released from the fear of not living up to my own expectations has been incredibly liberating. At the top of the blog, to be specific. As I release myself from the bonds of my pride (the before mentioned EGO) I suddenly feel dizzy with the prospects. I am unafraid to be an advocate, whether it of banishing homework or promoting disability awareness. I don't feel the need to temper what I say or what I believe because it may not appeal to everyone. That is okay. I feel unrestrained to the tethers that have been holding me back for fear that others might think me weak when I cannot carry "stuff" down the stairs. I no longer listen to the inner voice that I am a lesser person because I don't have the physical ability to do what I did once upon a time. Having a disability that has grown strikingly obvious is no longer stifling. Can it actually be a blessing?

     Somehow fears of what will happen on the road of life and what every-body thinks about me have become less important than sharing my experiences (and opinions). As I open up myself to the possibilities, I hope that some of what I try to convey rubs off on others. Or at least makes them laugh a little. Okay, I still have visions of myself being broadcast on TV to share this astounding news with the whole world! I am working on it. Even between the minutes of my day to day life, when I find time to write this blog.