Tag Archives: self-acceptance

Celebrating Independence Day Makes Me Think…

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…About Moving From Independence to Healthy Interdependence

 

DSC03697 flagJuly Fourth. It’s Independence Day weekend in America; a time to celebrate that we live in the “land of the free and the home of the brave.”  And this weekend, the national celebration also makes me think about my own sense of independence.

As a polio survivor for 63 years who has needed crutches, leg braces, and now a wheelchair and a scooter to get around, I was taught searing lessons about independence since the age of four. As children of the epidemics, we were  immersed, even indoctrinated, with the goals of becoming fiercely independent as we went through our initial rehabilitation from acute polio.  “Do it yourself! You fell down? Well, figure out how to get up on your own! It’s a cold, cruel world out there! You will always have to prove yourself to others,” were words I often heard from my parents and therapists. And they worked for me for a long time.

For fourteen-plus years, my 1950’s rehabilitation professionals convinced my family and me that I, as a young person who had a disability, was not sick, or defective. Neither was I destined to become a deviant object of charity. In fact, my mother always told me that I could do anything anybody else could do–just a bit differently. Our Wise Elders, the polio survivors in my national report, said they were told the same thing. One woman said she had a need to think independently from the time she was a young woman. She described how she traveled alone around the country and made other decisions that seemed imprudent to her non-disabled social group. Our stories of super achievement are numerous. But as we learned self-determination and self-respect, we were also taught not to be a burden on others.

WOW

Now that’s a loaded statement. One that needs unraveling–fast!  A burden? What’s that? What does this concept called independence really mean to us today? Is it the flip side of dependence? If independent means not being a burden on people, does that mean we should have less self-respect as we demurely become a dependent thorn in the side of others when we do reach out for help? Excess baggage? An affliction to them? Should we feel guilty? Defective? Unworthy? OMG: independence versus dependence. Let the unraveling begin with a new thought…

It’s the Fourth of July in America. Our greatest document, other than the Constitution, is the Declaration of Independence. For people who are growing older with the late effects of polio or simply growing older with the late effects of life, I say we need to draw up a more evolved document: The Declaration of Interdependence!  

Not independence. Not dependence. But interdependence: “the quality of being mutually reliant on each other.” 

It makes total sense, if we can shake our old ways of thinking. Under the guidance of this new declaration, we can begin to move from needing to fly solo so as not to bother others and prove ourselves worthy, into a new and lovely blessed state of healthy exchange. “I ask you for new kinds of help and I give you the help you need that I am capable of giving.”  It becomes a gracious and reciprocal experience that none of us will want to miss out on.

Trying to be that old kind of independent can be not only exhausting, but darn lonely. Working with a friend to plan a class reunion or a church event not only takes the load off me, but is a lot more fun. Who wants to do stuff alone all the time? That’s too independent! Trying to be strong and self-reliant can also be dangerous. Now while painting the fence or planting a garden, I could easily fall down, and then pop a bicep trying to push myself up from the ground. I say find a twenty-year old to do it. Then give him some of your best home baked cookies, some money and your full attention as he shares his life plans and interests. We have both gained from the experience. My friends and I trade favors. We drive each other to the airport and to our colonoscopies. I always have to drive my adapted car wherever we go, but my friends often chip in for gas. I listen intently to what my friends need to share with somebody and my buddies pay for dinner or buy me a device I can’t afford right now. It’s becoming easier for me to ask strangers for help when I need it too. We have always needed others and they have needed us. It just starts to look different as we age. As the poet says, “no man is an island.”

lemieux vv

Who needs to do stuff alone all the time? (Photo: Bay Cliff wildflower taken by Paula Lemieux)

If we need more, we need to ask for more. No guilt. We still have much to contribute now; maybe even more, but in different arenas. We don’t need to prove ourselves in the mainstream workplace and keep up with our non-disabled competitors. We can make new disability-related adaptations and be content with who we are really becoming, and what we need to do to live well during our retirement years.

Growing older with greater disability can offer us a fresh sense of not only comfort, but also liberation. I love having a flexible schedule that I can coordinate with my energy levels. It’s great to have time to Skype or play Skip-Bo with kids, do my scrapbooking and card making, walk and roll with my friends along the river’s edge, and contribute to my special social causes. Another unexpected thought–because of feedback I’ve received, I think I have somehow become more beautiful in certain ways as I’ve aged. And that’s in spite of new fat, wrinkles and deformity. Maybe it has to do with personal essence. Not sure, but I think that phenomenon is possible for each of us. We can mysteriously become more attractive. In many important ways, life can be better in old age than it ever was in youth. Especially when we each figure out how to adopt our own personal Declaration of Interdependence.

So stay tuned! Next time we’ll focus on the sacred exchange of giving and receiving.

Until then, I’m interdependently yours,

Sunny

P.S. Weight loss update: I have shed nine pounds since May 13th. Much more to go. Onward!

—Many thanks to Sue Rasmussen for her editorial assistance with this post!—

What are your thoughts on all this? 

Would love to read your comments…

 

Let’s Clink Our Champagne Glasses!

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hip hip

“Hip, Hip, Hurrah!” 1888, oil on canvas by Norwegian-Danish painter Peder Severin Krøyer

 

“We must see the delicious beverage, then taste the lovely wine,  feel it on our tongue, smell the sweet aroma from the glass. Lastly, we need to use our fifth sense so we “clink” the glasses and hear the delightful sound…”

 

It’s time for us to have a wonderful party—a celebratory bash–to raise our glasses and communally toast having had polio. Three cheers for polio! We will clink together; then we will drink together!

What! Salute having had polio? Sound crazy? Maybe, but let’s think about it. One of the smartest and healthiest things we might do at this time in our lives is to celebrate the gifts that polio actually gave us—the many wonderful life moments that happened to us BECAUSE we had polio, not IN SPITE OF having had polio.

This is a controversial, highly-charged topic because having had polio was not easy. But for the sake of debate, let’s take a moment to broaden our thinking patterns here beyond the borders of “not easy.” Let us invoke a little more expansive view of our lives, especially when it comes to renewing our personal sense of meaning. Yes, yes. We all want to see polio eradicated worldwide because it kills and paralyzes people. No. No. We would never wish a post-polio disability on anyone, nor, if we could live life over, would we ever ask to have it again. However…we got it, were disabled by it, suffered and struggled with it, and have been mastering the art of living well with it for decades now.

Looking back, we know it’s true–a growing number of us have consciously turned living well with polio into, not just a goal, but a creative art form. We have not only been the adroit composers of our unique personal adaptations, attitudes, and alliances; we have become the masterpieces themselves. And we flourish.

I believe one of our secrets to thriving with polio is that we, first and foremost, quietly dismissed all those who gawked at us with pity, volunteered to Biblically heal us, needlessly tried to fix us, or gazed at our bent feet rather than into our eyes. As we have matured, we have learned to reject the shame and stigma of disability. What a freedom! We found out that such negativity gets old and is not useful. Out of necessity, we have had to become introspective from time to time, which inescapably fostered our personal character development. We have learned to be assertive when needed, to surround ourselves with loved ones, to think positively, get educated, find good resources, and enjoy life along the way.

Perhaps most importantly, we have learned to accept ourselves as we are. Many of us have evolved in our thinking to appreciate and lovingly embrace what used to be our primary nemesis–polio. In order to find peace and contentment, we have had to make friends with our disability. Not overcome it. Not hide it. And not fight it. Someone at the recent PHI Conference in St. Louis reflected, “Life doesn’t get easier, but it does get better.” Perhaps one reason life with polio is better is because we have become wise enough to embrace all of it—cause and effect. Polio has made us who we are today.

Our physical differences don’t matter much anymore because we are all beginning to look like everyone else our age anyway. We, however, know a bit more about aging gracefully, because we started sooner than all of our friends. We are aging with a disability. Many of our friends are aging into disability. If they’ll let us, we can actually help them with their new adjustments.

Our polio experience has given us everything from spontaneous moments of delight to life-long personal relationships we never would have had otherwise. Let’s take a long moment to praise, appreciate and clink our champagne glasses to all we have received, known and loved because of our polio…these have been polio’s gifts to us.

“What gifts,” you may ask, “did polio possibly give to me?” What is there to celebrate, to be grateful for? To open your thinking process, here is what a group of fellow polio survivors have shared from personal experience:

  • In 1964 I got to view Michelangelo’s Pieta at the New York World’s Fair for as long as I wanted to because people in wheelchairs were allowed to sit about 50 feet from the magnificently mesmerizing statue instead of having to stand on the conveyor belt being moved slowly past the statue. I could marvel at every fold in Mary’s gown carved from that huge hunk of white marble. (Clink!)
  • First, through all the wonderful polio survivors I have met, I have gained so much insight into life and all its inevitable ups and downs. Second, I have grown personally and I believe I have become much more sensitive to “the moment” and the value of self-reliance. These are blessings that came with polio. (Clink!)
  • I would never have been invited to travel to India to teach about the late effects of polio, ride an elephant and see the majestic Taj Mahal shine in the rain like a glazed luminescent pearl. (Clink!)
  • I don’t think I will ever be grateful for having had the disease. However, I am grateful for the opportunities that have come my way while dealing with the disability…the very special people I have met along my journey, the extraordinary experiences that I have encountered, and the drive I have developed to succeed in life. (Clink!)
  • I would not have met and married my husband if it hadn’t been for how struck he was by the contrast between my strong personality and my polio enhanced body with leg braces and a cane. I moved with effort due to my severe scoliosis, but stood proudly in a line of therapist colleagues introducing myself to lead a discussion group at a conference he was attending. He picked my discussion group and pursued my attention. Forty years later we still wonder how, of all the people in the world, we found each other and how good it still is. (Clink!)
  • A few years ago I had the opportunity to watch a superb young documentary filmmaker at work with her small crew, and to see how she turned much of what I said during a lengthy interview of more than an hour into images throughout the hour-long film. My voice was heard for no more than a couple of minutes but the film itself is crowded with images she found in the March of Dimes archives and other places – almost all of them completely unrelated to me personally, but some of which she spotted just by recalling our taped conversation. I learned a lot from this about the art of filmmaking. No doubt I could’ve learned roughly the same thing without the dubious benefit of having had polio. But in fact, in this case, the benefit arrived because of the polio. (Clink!)
  • Polio has given me the ability to view life and situations “outside of the box.”  This has enabled me to do the many, many challenging things that I have accomplished in ways that would not be typical for most people. (Clink!)
  • I learned to never feel sorry for myself; there are others worse off than me. (Clink!)
  • It has enabled me to relate to issues others with disabilities are facing. (Clink!)
  • I have met many wonderful, interesting people through my polio connections. Because of my polio, I have a worldwide network of supportive post-polio associates that I can link up with anytime. They are like “friends-on-call!” As a traveler, that’s an especially gratifying (and quite helpful) advantage. (Clink!)
  • If I hadn’t studied post-polio treatments in Europe, I would never have encountered a European lover who made me feel like Sophia Loren on a scooter. (Clink!)

 

Now it’s your turn. Lengthen the list and join the party.  It’s our time to celebrate!

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DSCN0918Holiday Blessings!

This essay was recently published in the Fall 2014 issue of Post-Polio Health, Post-Polio Health International’s newsletter.

It might be a great piece to read aloud in your favorite circle of friends who had polio.  After the reading,  any inspired group members could verbalize their own personal “gratitude toast” to inaugurate a cheery exchange.

To be exquisitely festive, do plan to have several bottles of excellent champagne on hand!

Blessed is the season
which engages the whole world
in a conspiracy of love.
             ~ Hamilton Wright Mabie ~

 

Clink!

Sunny