Delving Deeper – Page 20 – PowerchairDiaries

Upward Mobility

By Mark E. Smith

Anyone who tells you that “all men are created equal” is simply stating rhetorical idealism. The fact is, we know we’re not all born equal – some are born into lives of privilege, while others are born into far more grave circumstances.

If you weren’t born into a life of privilege – albeit, wealth, a stable home, good health, and so on – you’ve probably seen your hopes and dreams thwarted at some point. When an upper-class kid, with good-looks, athleticism, and not a stress in the world goes to college on his or parent’s dime, a lot is a given, success is almost a birth right. However, if you’re like some of us who weren’t so fortunate, you don’t stare at silver platters, but you encounter a lot of roadblocks and mountains to climb. And, that’s OK – be happy for the privileged ones, but also see the extraordinary potential in yourself and others like you, those who have to work harder, those who face greater adversity, those for whom it takes more time, but get there, no less.

See, you can’t worry about what those of privilege have, or that you got the proverbial short end of the straw. So what if she has Daddy’s money, or he got a promotion by being at the right place at the right time. Life isn’t just about luck of the draw; it’s a marathon about tenacity. You have what you have, no matter how little, and it’s your job to make the most of it, building upon it over the long term – with laser-like focus, unwavering drive, and, yes, do-or-die tenacity. You have no safety net, and that in itself will make you a better tight rope walker in the end – you won’t fall because you can’t risk falling.

And, none of it is easy – climbing mountains never is. But, it’s totally possible. At times, you may have to make extreme sacrifices – maybe you live in a hole-in-the-wall place, with no television, subsisting on Top Ramen because the little money you have covers the books for your community college courses. Or, maybe you go to work despite health issues because you wish to excel in your career regardless of any adversities. The fact is, as long as you have unyielding tenacity and focus – where you have the guts to make sacrifices that others run from – you will succeed, period. Life isn’t for the privileged; life is for the strong.

Interestingly, political beliefs aside, our most recent three presidents are a great study in privilege versus tenacity – and where the playing field is leveled. President George W. Bush certainly worked hard in his life, but was born into privilege and a family legacy that led him to President, his grandfather a U.S. Senator, and his father, of course, a President. By contrast, President Clinton’s father died three months before his birth, and his later stepfather was a gambler and alcoholic who abused his mother, with President Clinton earning his way through college on scholarships. Similarly, President Obama came from a broken home, mostly raised by his grandparents, putting himself through school. So, we have three presidents of practically speaking the same era, and one was born into privilege, while two came from very humble beginnings. The point is, tenacity can catch up with privilege in the end – but it takes work and vision and guts.

If we truly look at the backgrounds of our 42nd and 44th presidents, there’s tremendous inspiration in that. You don’t need to be of the birth right of the 43rd president – lineage of privilege and power – to be among the most successful people on Earth. Rather, you can come from the so-called bottom, never feel lower than anyone else, and chart a course of personal empowerment. No, you statistically won’t ever be the president, like Clinton or Obama, but think of what you can accomplish in the way of education, career, community, and family – there’s nothing holding you back.

And, you mustn’t let success stop with you. You must have a moral and ethical compass to help others. You don’t want to be smug and selfish, but kind and giving – a leader in action. You see ignorance on the Internet, in line at the grocery store, on cable news shows. You don’t want to be that guy. You want to have the backbone to lead others from despair, not create it. See, the ultimate form of success isn’t in just bettering your life, but bettering others, bettering the world around you as you rise.

Life is simple geography: regardless of where you start, you can go anywhere – just plot an extraordinary course and follow it unrelentingly.

The Power of Abandonment

Mark Sit Skiing 1987 — Mark Sit Skiing 1988

In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. -Patti Smith

By Mark E. Smith

The only sport that my disability level ever truly allowed me to compete in was downhill sit-skiing in the 1980s, when the technology – a kayak-type device, steered with short poles and edges on the bottom – just matched my limited coordination well enough to allow me to snow ski. In fact, it taught me a lot about how having the courage to push our boundaries isn’t about risks, but rewards.

It was the 1988 Western Regionals for what then was called National Handicapped Sports and Recreation, the governing body of adaptive snow skiing. In order to qualify for Nationals, one had to time in at Regionals, and my region was especially competitive because it was home to world-class athletes like Marilyn Hamilton, Dave Kiley, and Peter Axelson. However, I was lucky in that adaptive ski technology was rapidly changing that year, and those three ultra-skiers were in a new class called “mono-skis,” a technology that my lack of balance wouldn’t allow. So, the sit-ski class that I raced in was much smaller that season; yet, ultimately no less competitive.

My foremost competition was Mike Moleski, a paraplegic who was almost twice my age and definitely twice my size. I was a skinny 17-year-old kid with cerebral palsy, and Mike was a 30-something jock with muscles galore. He was also a bit of a loose canon. He appeared every bit your stoned surfer dude, right down to bleach-blond hair, and he sit-skied like he was on fire. I don’t know why, but when everyone else moved to the newer technology mono-ski class, he stayed in the sit-ski class with me.

And, I had no hopes of beating Mike, no matter how well I skied. He was too big, too strong, too coordinated, and too daring for me to realistically compete against on the race course. And, my coach knew it. “You’ve got three possible outcomes here,” my coach told me. “You can ski your own race and finish the course, but likely not qualify for Nationals. You can ski with abandonment and risk blowing out of the course, getting disqualified. Or, you can ski with abandonment and at least have a shot at keeping up with Mike and qualifying for Nationals.”

Of the three choices, only the two made sense to me: Ski with abandonment. Taking the safe way would get me down the course, but likely not with the time that I needed, so why even race? However, while skiing with abandonment would risk a disqualification if I got out of control and missed a gate, blowing the course, I still had an equal chance of ranking a leading time if by some miracle I could pull it off. I figured out of the three choices, only skiing with abandonment – and pulling it off – gave me a shot at qualifying for nationals.

The mono-ski class raced first, and the course was so steep and fast that they decided to start us sit-skiers off lower on the course. Mono-skis are a seat frame mounted to a single ski, with exceptional turning and edge control, so they handle high speeds and steep terrain better. Sit-skis are more of a sled, so they drift and speed can quickly become difficult to control. So, when I saw the steepness and speed of the course – even at half way – I was scared. I was no longer worried about blowing out of the course, but actually getting hurt.

Mike went first, and I saw his ski drifting as he flew down the hard-packed course, barely making each gate. If he was having trouble holding turns at speed, I was really in trouble. But, he finished the course, with a time I knew I couldn’t match – unless I skied with abandonment.

As the buzzer went off, I thrust myself out of the starting gate, and was immediately accelerated by gravity. Mike was smart in that he tried to stay in the trough carved by earlier racers, using it like a bobsled shoot to help steer his course. But, it likewise seemed to slow him down, so just past the first gate, I jumped out of the trough and opted a straighter, faster, more dangerous line, struggling to stay center course, hitting speeds that made it seem like the gates were much closer than they were. But, I soon figured that I really needed no technique, just abandonment. I applied no speed control whatsoever, and just used all of my strength to center the sled on each gate. And, as I hit the finish line, I had no hopes of stopping but to throw the sit-ski on its side, skidding to a stop in front of the crowd. Everyone cheered, including Mike – my time within a second of his – with my coach picking me up, sit-ski and all.

Sometimes in life – no matter sports, love, career, or disability, to name a few – the safest way isn’t always the surest or most rewarding way to accomplish what you wish. Sometimes you have to take calculated risks, and say, I don’t know how this is going to turn out. But, I’m going to put it all in my own hands, and give it a shot….

It Gets Better

Morgan Duffy & Crew, Stanford Class of 2013

By Mark E. Smith

Author’s Note: There’s a disturbing undercurrent that, in this modern day, some teens with physical disabilities still feel isolated, depressed, even suicidal. So, let us talk about being a teen with a disability, and how life gets better….

As a teenager struggling with having a disability, you need to know only one truth: Life gets better – remarkably better.

I remember being a teenager with cerebral palsy and, like you, I remember struggling with it all – feeling different, but wanting to fit in; being treated different, but wanting to fit in, or, at times, feeling completely “normal,” but not being accepted as such. No, high school for me wasn’t all terrible – there were some good friends and good times, as I hope there are for you. We should all see good where there’s good. But, it wasn’t easy for me being different. But, it did get better. And, I know it may not be easy for you right now, but it will get better – remarkably better.

See, high school is tough for everyone, typically a confusing time, and everyone just wants to fit in. I have a 16-year-old daughter who “fits the mold,” and it’s even tough for her and her friends at times. Like you and my daughter and her friends, I just wanted to fit in, too – to have the right friends, have the right persona, and get invited to the right parties. And, for me, maybe like you, sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn’t. Well, a lot of times it didn’t work. And, when it didn’t work – the occasional bully calling me “retard,” or not getting invited to different events and such – it really, really hurt. At points, I, too, just wanted to give up and die. And, before it gets better, sometimes it gets worse.

I remember at among the lowest points in my teen years, I had a girlfriend who I thought truly accepted me, but when it came time to dance at the prom, she wouldn’t dance with me because I used a wheelchair. I remember thinking that my disability was the blame, that if I wasn’t plagued by cerebral palsy, I’d have all of the friends, girlfriends, and coolness in the world. However, I would never be accepted or successful because of my disability.

But, I was wrong. High school and my peers had no impact on my ultimately living a happy, successful life. The day that I graduated, virtually everything got better for me. I went from bullies calling me “retard,” to being a writer, speaker, and academic. I was soon invited to real parties, with amazing people, even getting to meet the President of the United States. And, while no relationship is perfect, I had my ultimate dances with amazing women since – loving, accepting, sincere. It all got better – remarkably better.

My daughter and I were planting Marigolds this spring in a flower bed in front of our home. It was a 70-degree sunny day, where our English bulldog lay on the ultra-green grass. And, although my life, again, isn’t perfect, I was reminded of all I’ve been blessed with – my daughter, a career that helps others, a nice home, the respect of those in my community – and I thought back to my days in high school, wondering where those who treated me poorly are today? Oddly, when I was on Capitol Hill recently, none were there. I don’t see any of them in magazines that I write for, or any with Internet followings. And, I have to wonder with a smile, is their grass as green as mine?

The fact is, while those who hurt you today in school may seem so powerful, they’ll soon enough get lost in the world. But, you. You were born into the extraordinary, with capacities toward life success that they’ll likely never realize. Let’s wish them well, but they don’t have what you have – that is, potential waiting to explode. And, it will, where your life is going to get better – remarkably better. You’re a survivor and a thriver, and that which seems to work against you now, will work for you soon. You’ve been given the gifts of tenacity, perseverance, and empathy – traits that are rocket fuel for life, just waiting to ignite your life in the most rewarding of ways.

My young friend, Morgan Duffy, graduates from Stanford University in a few weeks at this writing. She’s a Dalai Lama Fellow; she’s done an internship on Capitol Hill; and, she’s studied abroad. And, get this, she’s accepted a job with Genentech – without even applying (the recruiters found her based on her accomplishments). But, I’ll let Morgan’s own words explain the rest of her story:

So I’d like to tell you that I am your average 21 year old, living life and learning through mistakes and experiences. Most of my experiences, however, are less than average. Three years ago, I packed up my life and moved from the small city of Scranton, PA to begin my college education at Stanford University. I am a Cross Cultural Health and Intervention major with interests in disability, health policy, social justice, women’s health and choice. Like most, my interests are based in experience. I am a woman with a physical disability, who navigates the world in a wheelchair. And I like to feel the world beneath me in that way, taking each bump and knock consistently and steadily. My mother is a nurse, and through my years listening to her complain of the inefficiencies and inequities of modern US health, I have been motivated to learn how to change this. Social justice was the foundation of my high school career at Scranton Prep, and I have vowed to never forget.

Morgan isn’t an exception, she’s the rule – just as you are. You, too, will leave your town and “feel the world beneath you,” as Morgan puts it, going on to successes that won’t just change you, but will change the world.

It may all seem tough today, but the strength to hold on was born into you – there’s a purpose for who we each are, and yours is extraordinary. Tough out the tough times, as it all gets better, remarkably better. And, yes, the grass will be greener on the other side. I’ll see you there.

Empty Words

By Mark E. Smith

The two symbolic, ground-breaking shovels that sit in the corner of his office catch my eye. One is gold-plated and the other, chrome. They’re the type of shovels that dignitaries and politicization use to pose with in a dirt patch when kicking-off a new development project. And, they’re leaning in the corner of his stately office, which clearly has not been remodeled since the 1980s, right down to worn leather chairs. But, all is spotless clean – even the shiny shovels.

I could picture him back in the day, likely slamming one of those shovels onto a board room table, and saying in a larger-than-life voice to his executive team, “Are we going to dig our own grave, or dig our way to the top?”

Yet, now he’s a kind, calm, soft-spoken older man, a proud grandfather. And, as he talks I feel a bit writer and a bit grandson. “Never trust words,” he says. “Flow charts, a good dresser, a great speaker – never trust any of it. Only trust results. When someone delivers, trust that. Trust whomever backs you in the trenches.”

And, for a moment, my eyes drift back to the shovels leaning in the corner, and I think about how true his words are, not just in business, but in life. As a writer and speaker, I’m a contradiction in that I’ve always distrusted words. It goes back to my mom and her always lying about not being drunk, my therapist would say. And, while maybe that’s where my distrust of words likely began, it runs more universally than that. I’ve learned that when we truly care about others, we don’t just say it, we show it. Show me you care about me, show me you love me – don’t just tell me. I’ve fallen for words too many times, only to be hurt by them – empty, hollow in the end, the words, me, all of it. You have, I have, we all have. And, what’s insane is that we continue wanting to hear them, the words, and believe in them – I’ll pick up the pace, I’ll make things right, I’ll quit doing it, I’ll change…. But, what’s any of it mean if there’s no action or effort behind the words?

The answer is, nothing. Here’s the fact: when we look and don’t listen – that is, when we gauge a person on what they do, not what he or she says – it’s the ultimate truth of what we mean to that person. No matter if it’s an employee, friend, or love interest, follow what one does, not what one says. Lots of people will say they’re there for you; but, who’s truly there in the sincerest ways? It quickly becomes a short list, doesn’t it?

And, yes, it’s a painful realization, but also a poignant one. See, in the process of realizing how adrift we are, alone at sea, we likewise realize who’s truly there for us, not in words, but in heart, soul, good times and bad. Words are so often an empty gesture; but, actions of the heart always prove true intent. Grab those who put their hearts and souls out there for you – hold on to them, truly trust in them, no longer adrift but anchored by them.

And, as he continues speaking, I stare at the shiny shovels, and again wonder why any of us still trust in words at all?

Find A Way

By Mark E. Smith

I’m not a miracle worker, but no matter what problem you throw at me, I can tell you in three words how to solve it: Find a way.

If there’s one life-changing, ever-empowering truth that disability experience has taught me, it’s that there’s always a way to resolve or accomplish what we wish – we just have to find a way to do it. It may not be initially evident; it may not be easy; it may not seem practical; and, it may even seem ludicrous. Yet, to any challenge or situation in life, there is a way to resolve it – we just have to find the way.

I often share the story of my shoe laces. For the first 25 years of my life, I couldn’t tie my own shoes based on my lack of dexterity and coordination. Now, in the grand scheme of life, not being able to tie one’s own shoes may not seem like a big deal – after all, there are far more serious limitations in life – but it was one of the last pieces to my physical independence. The ability to tie my own shoes meant the difference between being able to fully dress independently or forever rely on others.

For years, I tried all sorts of shoes, with all sorts of practice. But, alas, I could never coordinate shoe laces well enough to tie them. I even got to the point where I could make the loops, but as I went to cross them, all fell apart. It was forever frustrating, to say the least, right down to my brother having to tie my shoes on my wedding day.

Yet, after years of practice, trial, error, and failure, I was so close to tying my own shoes that I knew that I could do it – I just had to find a way. And, so I reanalyzed my process, and realized that where the issue was, was that when I went to cross the shoe lace loops, my poor coordination over-extended the shoelaces, causing them to come undone. If only I had more shoelace length to work with, I could cinch the loops before pulling the ends out…. And, in that was the answer: get longer shoelaces! Indeed, I found a way, and till this day, 72” shoelaces are the solution I use to tie my shoes. It wasn’t that I couldn’t tie my own shoes; rather, I simply had to find a way to do it.

Finding a way is amazing because it empowers us to find a solution to any problem rather than accepting it. A task or situation may seem impossible, but if we truly believe that there is a way to successfully solve it – we just have to find it – it inspires us to not just try, but try harder, as well as go into situations with a can-do attitude.

I admit, I’ve become pretty skilled at finding a way, where when I encounter a challenge, I don’t shy from it; rather, I go into find-a-way mode. I recently wanted to interview a business titan for a book I’m writing. The individual is bigger than life, worth an estimated $2-billion, and has an insanely busy schedule. I remember thinking, How am I going to track this individual down, let alone get a several-hour interview? The answer immediately struck me: Find a way.

I thought for a moment who might have the individual’s personal contact information – as I wanted to get direct to the source – and with a single email exchange, I scored both the individual’s and the individual’s assistant’s contact information. Bingo! I then sent an email to the assistant, and within 20 minutes, I had an interview scheduled. I flew to the individual’s headquarters, and ended up with an amazing two-hour interview. If I had told most folks who I wanted to interview and where, they would have thought it crazy. There’s no way you’ll pull that off, most would have said. However, knowing that I just had to find a way to pull it all together made the seemingly impossible ridiculously easy. There I was, having flown partly across the country, sitting in the individual’s stately office, hearing amazing, never-before-told stories to include in my book.

See, that’s the eloquence of find a way – it immediately makes the impossible totally plausible. Are you having difficulty accomplishing a goal? Find a way. Are you struggling to get the results in a particular aspect of your career that you want? Find a way. Do you want to make major changes to your life? Find a way. Do you want to live your dreams? Find a way!

No, anything truly worth striving for isn’t easy, nor without complications. But, if it’s truly worth doing – if you’re truly dedicated to accomplishing it – there’s a way to do it. Find it. Live it. Never give up hope, as there’s always a way….

Days of Powdered Milk

By Mark E. Smith

People keep asking me about the recent issues – actually, I don’t even know what to call them – at The Scooter Store, leaving a reported 1,800 people out of work on “furlough,” many in a region of the country where jobs are hard to come by.

As I’ve explained to a few, I don’t know any more about the situation than what’s been posted on news outlets. However, what I do know is that I feel deeply for the employees and their families. See, these are 1,800 hard-working Americans, doing jobs as phone operators, data processors, delivery drivers, and virtually every other honest position one can hold. They are moms and dads, some single parents, some working their way through school, most paying bills on Friday and going to church on Sunday. Indeed, for me, there’s not a story about The Scooter Store, but 1,800 stories, ones of how the rent will get paid, ones of keeping gas in the car, ones of, How do we survive as a family from here?

I truly don’t know precisely what the 1,800 families of The Scooter Store are going through, as I have a good-paying career and don’t need to worry about rent or gas these days. However, I come from a very humble background of being poor at times as a child – I remember being in food lines with my mom to get big boxes of government powdered milk and blocks of cheese – and it’s stuck with me my whole life, never wanting to go back to that. And, so, I can only imagine how scary this time is for the 1,800 families of The Scooter Store, including their children.

Beyond the fear of being broke and hungry, I also relate to the all-American work ethic that most of The Scooter Store employees personify. Folks are sometimes kind to note my talent based on the volume of my career, but it’s truly an allusion. Really, at the heart of what I do is simply an intense work ethic, where I keep my mouth shut, my head down, and do the best possible job I can in any given situation. And, I learned long ago to never say no to any type of work, no matter the task or amount – because that’s what it takes to survive. Nashville for a conference? Sure. L.A. for the Abilities Expo the next week? Of course. All of my other duties, and working on a book at the same time? Not a problem – I’ll do it all. I don’t care how heavy the work load, how tough the independent travel, how exhausting the schedule, I’m just grateful to have the work. And, I forever watch, listen, and learn as I go.

See, when you know where you come from – just poor – and you know that you can go back to that at any time, and the only line between then and now is hard work, you work really hard, like your life depends on it – because it does. Mine does.

Disability experience teaches us all a lot in that way, where often all we have to get us through is pure tenacity, and when we rely on that, it’s really all that we need. Talent and luck can get you so far, but just good ol’ back-breaking hard work is among the truest keys to not just surviving but thriving. And, when something doesn’t work out, you’re ready to employ Plan B, C, and D, doing whatever it takes.

My brother is presently a great example of a life fueled by tenacity and back-breaking work. He’s a master tile setter, living in a very expensive part of the country. In order to afford a home for his family, he lives three hours from the city where he works. He gets up at 2am, six days per week, drives three hours to work, sets tile all day, then drives three hours home – generally just to go to bed and get up and do it again. So, why does he do it? Well, he knows the value of hard work and keeping the lights on. We were in government food lines together, and he never wants to go back there, either. He couldn’t afford to give his wife and daughters the lifestyle he wished in the city, so he moved where they could afford, making remarkable personal sacrifices in the process. He’s no genius or extraordinary talent; rather, he’s just working really, really hard.

And, for the 1,800 employees of The Scooter Store, who worked really, really hard, and now find themselves wondering how to pay the rent and keep gas in the car, my sentiment is this: Let’s not allow these families to get lost in a news story about whatever becomes of The Scooter Store; rather, let us each remind ourselves where we come from, and how scary it would be to be out of work, maybe even waiting in a food line for government boxes of powdered milk and blocks of cheese. Most of all, let’s keep those 1,800 Scooter Store employees in our prayers.

The Humanity of Foot Washing

By Mark E. Smith

There’s been an amazing trend across the country of very financially and socially successful people – from business titans to professional athletes – washing the feet of the homeless.

Now, we know how superficial we in the U.S. can be, where many look down on the homeless, walking around them on city sidewalks like they’re invisible.

And, yet, they’re not invisible. They’re as human as you and me, with a value and depth to their humanity that’s no less than anyone else’s. And, this is where foot washing comes in. See, while “foot washing” is biblical, it’s also very much about humility. It’s about simply connecting with others as-is, caring just to care, loving just to love, where superficial pettiness doesn’t separate us. Rather, our humanity unites us. After all, what’s more socially leveling and caring than washing others’ feet?

I’ve just entered my 42nd year, and if there’s one lesson I’ve learned in my life it’s not to judge others – and not to allow them to judge me. My ultimate role is to love and be loved, as ideally all of our roles should be. I don’t care if you’re worth $2-billion like a gentleman I’m currently interviewing for a writing project, or if you’re flat broke like a homeless gentleman I met in Vegas last summer and shared a poignant moment with. You can smell like cologne or urine. You can live in a mansion or a shack. You can be of any color, of any religion, of any sexual orientation, from any educational background. I don’t care. My only concern is, are you a kind person, and if so, I will be glad to wash your feet, human to human, where I trust you’d do the same for me.

The fact is, in my 42 years, I’ve known the pain and injustice of, as Martin Luther King Jr. put it, being judged not based on the quality of my character, but the color of my skin, so to speak. Strangers and those close to me alike have judged me many of times, obviously based on my physical disability but for other petty reasons, as well. And, it all hurt. However, it’s all taught me to love and accept others at deeper, truer levels. I will love you for you, as-is, period. And, it’s an amazing process where it’s brought amazing people into my life who I wouldn’t have known if I were judging and stereotyping.

For some of us, we see having the opportunity to “wash others’ feet” as a blessing. Yet, imagine how wonderful it is to have one’s own feet washed, to just know that someone cares.

Jumping Off Cliffs

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. -Steve Jobs

Mark E. Smith

At what points do you throw logic and reason and expert opinions and friendly advice into the wind and just believe in yourself? Everyone in the world can tell you that if you jump off of that proverbial cliff you’re going to die. Yet, you know something they don’t: You’ve jumped off of that cliff many times, and haven’t just survived, you’ve soared.

There’s a lot of value to following others’ advice, to not making the mistakes they’ve made. Yet, what about what you know, what about what you’ve learned, what about the power that your spirit has taught you, truths that others — more realistic, more grounded, with less vision — simply don’t know or understand? Maybe you have done the seemingly impossible, maybe you have seen fairy tales come true, maybe you have experienced what others will never understand is possible. Why let the ordinary dictate your life when you can live the extraordinary.

I look back on my own life, and if I had listened to anyone but my own potential, will, and heart, I wouldn’t be here, period. I was supposed to be a vegetable, with no cognitive skills. I was supposed to fail as among the first mainstream students. I was supposed to never have kids or career or live independently. I was never supposed to accomplish virtually everything I’ve accomplished. I’ve always been told that I’ll never succeed at this or that. But, every time I’ve found myself perched on a cliff, where everyone — following the rules of gravity, medicine, psychology, social norms — told me that I was destine for failure, I’ve just looked back, smiled a confident grin, and jumped, never hitting the ground but soaring.

Of course we, ourselves, can be our biggest roadblocks, where past disappointments and fears can keep us from making life-changing leaps of faith. I’m not going to apply for that job because I’ll never get it…. I’m not going to pursue that relationship because it’s just going to end in heartache…. I’m not going to follow my dream because it’s too unrealistic…. No, if we’re ever to achieve what we truly want and deserve, it requires us to make huge leaps of faith at times. We don’t know we can soar till we make the leap.

You’re going to find yourself at crossroads in life, perched on cliffs of decision, where everyone is going to give you advice, telling you it will never work, you’ll never succeed, you’re in denial, you’re destine for failure. Maybe you’ll even doubt yourself. But, if you simply trust that we all can accomplish the seemingly impossible, that fairy tales can come true, then you’re going to look back at the crowd, maybe even look at your own fears, smile a confident grin — because your heart and spirit know best — and you’re not just going to jump, you’re going to soar. All it takes is that one leap of faith to better your life forever.

Open-Ended

By Mark E. Smith

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way…. -Pablo Neruda

As we sat talking – strangers seated next to each other on an airplane – I told him what I know about love as I glanced out the window, clouds beneath us drifting by, uncertainties ahead, the unknowns of travel and life….

Love isn’t about chances, I told him. It’s about trust. When you see a woman walking toward you – maybe the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen – and you smile warmly, looking into her eyes, you trust that she’ll smile back. Maybe it’s a stranger, and the electricity of her eyes says it all. Or, maybe she’s someone you know, and the squeeze of her hug says it all. However it occurs, it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When you ask a woman out on a date – maybe you put it casually, Do you want to go grab something to eat? – it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When you’re the first to initiate any milestones – …Can I see you again? …Do you want to come in? …How about meeting my friends? …What would you think about us going away this weekend? …I’m falling in love with you… – it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When there’s a petty argument, a disagreement, moodiness, and you’re the first to say, I’m sorry, it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When either one of you is confused or scared by it all, don’t run away from the relationship, run toward it. And, if she says that she needs time and space – maybe she’s even told you, It’s over – you step back as a gentleman, as a guy who cares and understands, and you give her that time and space because love isn’t about chances, it’s about trust.

And, when you have her picture still on your dresser, looking at it with fond memories – her head tilted back, smiling – but she’s not calling you on the phone anymore, your heart isn’t aching but warmed. Because, love isn’t about chances, it’s about trust.

Now, I can’t tell you whether it’s over or not in such cases – sometimes love has a vagueness and timing of its own. The cadence of the heart can’t be explained. But, I can tell you this: Love isn’t about chances. It’s about trust. …And, if you’re going to love – truly, madly, deeply – you have to trust more than you ever thought possible.

And, the clouds – the clouds, looking like I could float on them – just kept drifting by….

Attitude of Gratitude

By Mark E. Smith

I want to talk to you about being our own brain surgeons, rewiring our thought processes from the negative to the positive. You don’t need a medical degree to do this; just a willingness to choose to see one over the other.

See, it’s proven that our brains are naturally more attracted to negative thoughts than positive thoughts. You might say that negativity has a larger imprint than positivity in the physicality of our brains. Clinically, it’s called the “Negativity Bias.”

The way the negativity bias works is that when, for example, twenty people tell you how great your hair looks, and one person says that he or she doesn’t like it, that one put-down will stick with you every time you look in the mirror. And, we know from psychology that those constantly exposed to abusive relationships – constant put-downs – they lose the ability altogether to recognize what’s positive and healthy, drawn toward negativity like magnets.

I don’t know where my wires got crossed, but I’m just the opposite – positivity has a much bigger imprint on my brain than negativity. I call it my attitude of gratitude, where I just feel blessed no matter what. And, I probably shouldn’t have such a positive outlook, based on the cumulative adversity and negativity that I’ve faced in my life. I mean, the list is endless. However, what’s remarkable is that I’m not the only one. I’m forever impressed by my peer, Nick Vujicic. Nick was born without arms or legs, among the severest of disabilities you’ll ever see. And, in school, the bullying and social stigmas never ended, where Nick, in his own words, was the local freak show. Yet, while such a horrendous childhood would blacken most people’s hearts, it actually opened Nick’s. Today, at age 30, he’s the most sought-after inspirational speaker in the world, has a New York Times best-selling book, and a wife with their first child on the way. And, although Nick can’t drive, he owns his beloved classic hot rod car. No arms, no legs, but with his attitude of gratitude, Nick is literally Unstoppable (the title of his best-seller, by the way), among the most positive, loving people you’ll ever meet.

Nick proves a profound lesson to all of us: How to truly live. Why let the negativity of your life – or even physiology of the brain – dictate our potentials when we can be our own brain surgeons, so to speak, and dictate positive life paths over negative ones?

Speaking for myself, there’s little room in my head or heart for anything but joy and gratitude. I know that for every negative emotion, there’s a more powerful, productive one. Why argue when you can hug; why question when you can understand; why be bitter when you can be thankful; why condemn when you can uplift; why be offensive when you can be gracious? Why not just love and be loved? It’s the greatest, easiest, most-fulfilling way to live. No one or nothing can do you wrong because you only know what’s right. How powerful is that!

I encourage you to take a look at your life, define the negativity from the positivity, and steer your life toward the positives. See the sunshine through the clouds, and focus on that. It may be scary at first. It may require you to make major changes in your life. It may even require you to be a bit humble and apologize toward those you’ve wronged through being trapped in negativity. However, that’s the beauty of the “Negativity Bias” – it’s just a bias, and biases can be changed. You are a brain surgeon, skilled enough to switch your thinking – make that, your life! – from the negative to the positive. Shift from a negative to a positive bias, and open your heart – I guarantee that your life will head in directions that you never dreamed.