Non-fiction

An Untold Reflection

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Sunset, Fort Greene Park

I used to spend some of my day feeding young cats in Fort Greene Park near my previous apartment. Taking care of them was one of my daily rituals.  I knew a lot of my neighbors through this action and some became good friends with me. Christopher is a young man who is in a wheel chair and half of his leg is gone. He works out with his trainer near way I fed my cats and we saw each other a lot. He is a young man with a big smile and a fierce determination. When I look at him, I see a whole young man.

One day we were talking about what we did. I told him I was retired from a career in publishing sales.   He told me he had a blog. Later that night I read his story. When he was 15 years old he was called to his sister’s aid as she was being attacked by a gang in Brooklyn. She got away, but the gang shot him 9 times in the back.  Now at 23 years old this young athlete is in a wheel chair.  I believe Christopher made a very conscious effort to embrace his life not as it was, but as it is. Intense exercise and discipline has helped him ward off depression and keeps Chris energetic in body and spirit. He has  lively beliefs and a lot of interests.

I am a believer that all people have something in their lives which causes pain, even the ones who don’t look as if they do. It has to do with the human condition. Sometimes it involves terrible accidents, disease, and unfortunate twists of fate.  Pain can lie deep under the surface of our lives.

Twenty years ago I experienced this pain when I discovered  that I suffered from bipolar-illness. I was an avid runner and  a successful sales person and manager. I was able to keep this illness at bay and to hide it from everyone. Finally the stress of a big job, a young child, a long commute, constant travel and little sleep put me over the edge. For a long time I was shaped by this illness even though I never mentioned its name.

Over the past years with professional help and experience,  I have become less defined by it.  My peace was made with my father and mother before they died. In fact I found a small journal that my mother kept of my father’s mood swings. There is no shame in this illness. While it may be different than heart disease or cancer; it is still an illness that requires medication, a lot of common sense and extreme discipline. Most of all it demands compassion.  I have found writing, singing and being physically active to ward off the challenges it throws me.

These two stories have some  similarities. At the core they are about being vulnerable.  In looking back over Christopher’s writings, I am conscious that one of his motivations in living fully was to give back to all his fellow school mates and family who had given him so much when he was not expected to live. I saw him recently and he has completed college and is planning to go to graduate school to help young people. Out of this incident he has shaped a life of determination and grit.

Broken but whole

One of my Episcopal priests has a quote inscribed at the bottom of his e-mails: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. This quote is by Ian Maclaren, Scottish author and  theologian. I face a daily struggle with this illness. Some days it wins, but mostly I can live with its brokenness.

Please know that in these two situations, I am speaking of two specific individuals and not a normative. There is diversity of “battle” and what individuals are asked to bear.

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