Posts Tagged ‘helping others’

woods

By Mark E. Smith

Whose woods are these I think I know. It’s the eve of my 46th birthday, and from the kitchen table – my in-laws marital set from 50 years ago – I look off past a pasture, into the rolling hills of woods. The glassed-in room makes such a vista easy, and it’s different not just from season to season, but from morning to eve.

A glass of wine sits on the table, and it’s alright. It’s all alright now.

Someone said that the pasture and the rolling hills of woods reminded her of Argentina. I’ve never been. But, do beautiful vistas change, regardless of geography? Pastures, rolling hills of woods?

My wife is upstairs painting. No, not the fine art she’s trained in, but our master bedroom. We sprung to have the first floor painted, but the second floor is sweat equity. The third floor is her art studio. It wonderfully just is.

The sun is setting on the hills of woods, and the reds and greens of the trees are incredibly vibrant for March. Some sort of evergreen trees, I imagine.

My father in his early life could have told me what sort of trees they are. After serving in Viet Nam, he studied to become a master landscaper in his early 20s. He could have told me a lot. By 30, though, all was lost.

The other night, I was trying to think of when my father died, then my mother, and I don’t recall. I’ve always heard that we remember these things down to the second – where we were, what we were doing. But, I just don’t. All was strained for decades, lives in turmoil, then it just ended, first my father, then my mother. Sometimes it just ends; dates don’t matter.

I check on our eight-year-old in the adjoining family room. She’s watching the Muppet Show, and I start the fireplace as the sun sets. Our oldest turns 20 the day after my birthday, and won’t return home from college for another two weeks, spring break. She hasn’t seen any of the paint in person. There’s always progress on the house that we’re excited to show her. Nuances discovered from its 1828 roots to changes we’ve made. It’s home now – ours.

Robert Frost, among the “New England poets,” captured rural settings like this in his work. I think of “Mending Wall,” where, in the spring, my 2daughter and I, too, will stroll our property lines, resetting stones on walls and placing pieces of the old timber fencing back on its hand-carved posts.

I could tell you how I got here, 46, my wife, the kids, the house, the rolling hills of woods. But, the beauty of life isn’t just the growth from where we stem, but the promise of where we’re going.

I gaze out the windows. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

In memory of Dr. Brett Weber, who lived every day like it was Saint Patrick's Day (except for the beer!)

In memory of Dr. Brett Weber, who lived every day like it was Saint Patrick’s Day (except for the beer!)

By Mark E. Smith

Mahatma Gandhi said, “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as though you will live forever.”

If today were your last day on Earth, what would you do? The more profound question is, are you doing it?

In my forever learning, I’ve taken to heart both the fragility and power of life. In being a member of and serving those with disabilities, I’ve known many passings. I’ve watched friends die of MS after the span of a decade or more. I’ve had friends with ALS who’ve only lived three years from diagnosis. And, I’ve had friends with quadriplegia who simply didn’t wake up one morning. Even when there seems to be a predictability to death – as with a terminal condition – there’s not. Anyone of us can die at any time, disability, illness or otherwise. And, we do.

Having known so many who have passed away, it’s made me oddly at ease with death. It literally has long been part of my life, just as it’s a part of life, itself. This isn’t to say I’m not heartbroken with each passing, but I’ve learned not to struggle with the reality of death. Grief for me has become less about sadness and more about fond remembrance. My life has been changed by knowing all who have passed, and their wonderful impact on me has never stopped at their passings – it’s carried on with me.

And, there within resides among my greatest life lessons: honor the fragility and power of life, as Gandhi put it, as if we may die tomorrow. What does that really mean, though?

Living as if you were to die tomorrow means deeply recognizing the power in life we all have. For each of us, priorities are a little different, but there are universal truths. Deeply value and express gratitude to those around us by constantly reaching out to our loved ones, friends and strangers alike. Live our dreams now, rather than putting them off. Find beauty and meaning in as many moments as we can, even in the difficult or mundane. Accept what we can’t change, and move on. Have fun! And, as my wise wife puts it, “Every day, do important things.” Life is what we make it, so why not live to a degree that doesn’t just bring joy and meaning into our lives, but to everyone around us?

As for me, I’m not worried about living or dying tomorrow – I’m fine with either fate. I’m just relishing every moment of today. No matter if it’s rain or shine, I’m using my power wheelchair to dance in it all!

maslowshierarchyofneeds-svg

By Mark E. Smith

Abraham Maslow was a well-respected psychologist in the mid 20th century. In 1943, he published a paper in Psychological Review, titled, “A Theory of Human Motivation.” Put simply, Maslow explored what made great people… well… great. However, his research didn’t stop there. Over the next decade, he further studied such “exemplary” individuals, as he coined, as Frederick Douglass, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Albert Einstein. He also studied the top 1% of college students. With this data, he then defined an exact hierarchy of five traits that formed a pyramid, where if you had all of the ideal traits – physiological, safety, love, esteem, and self-actualization – you reached the ultimate state of “what a person can be.”

With his “Hierarchy of Needs” pyramid published in 1954, Maslow garnered a lot of attention. It was sort of among the first self-help paths: follow these steps and you, too, can be a fully-evolved, ultra-successful person. Yet, in the 60 years since, Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs has been questioned. The psychology community agrees there is a hierarchy of needs – breathing obviously comes before love – but many doubt Maslow’s sub-category rankings. For example, does sex come before intimacy, or intimacy before sex, and many argue that Maslow’s hierarchy can vary geographically, from culture to culture. Therefore, there are easily-seen holes in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.

As one who’s studied Maslow since college over 25 years ago, I’ve increasingly noted a gap in his pyramid, myself. No, I’m not a psychologist, but one doesn’t need to be in order to understand what we need to be healthy, successful and fulfilled: a sense of purpose.

When we look at Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, nowhere does he note purpose. Yet, we all know what it’s like to question our purpose, why we’re here, why we do what we do? And, when we have the answer – that is, when we feel a sense of purpose in our lives – it’s the ultimate fulfillment. I’d assert that purpose is as vital as breathing, itself. In fact, in the hospice community, we often hear of those seemingly refusing to pass until their purpose is resolved. A sense of purpose most often defines our lives in the end.

Of course, a sense of purpose is found in endless ways. As parents, striving to do best by our children, it’s impossible not to feel a sense of purpose. In our careers, if we feel that we’re truly making an impact, it gives us a sense of purpose. In our communities, if we serve others, it gives us a sense of purpose. The list goes on and on; however, there is a unifying key to all senses of purpose: we must sincerely feel we’re serving others in some way. This doesn’t mean that we need to win the Nobel Prize for medicine to feel a sense of purpose. Rather, it simply means we must feel that our actions, big or small, serve others. If you walk into a field and shovel snow, at best you’ll just get a workout. However, if you shovel your elderly neighbor’s walkway, you’re guaranteed to feel a sense of purpose.

Purpose is also wonderfully contagious, and we should never be cautious about spreading it – let purpose loose! I recently got wonderfully pulled into a flurry of purpose. A gentleman in our community saw his purpose in collecting clothing for our local men’s shelter. He emailed a single person, and she emailed another, and by the time I was added to the email chain, I was awestruck by so many finding their purpose in the project. There were collection bins being set up, locations secured, and I was like, “Heck yeah, I’ll write the PR for you!” When a purpose bus comes by, get on!

I don’t know where you’re at in your life, but for all of us, a sense of purpose is vital. Sometimes we struggle to find it, and that’s OK – having patience often leads to finding ultimate fulfillment. Sometimes, we have a sense of purpose, then lose it – it happens, and let us take time to rediscover it. And, other times we feel our purpose every day. Purpose isn’t a scorecard, but a journey.

As for Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, I’m writing purpose into the bottom tier because I believe it’s absolutely a foundation of our needs in life.

red-phone1

By Mark E. Smith

For 17 years, I’ve worked in various roles within a power wheelchair and scooter manufacturer, most recently in the capacity as a general manager. That seems like a straight-forward career, doesn’t it? After all, how complex can wheelchairs and scooters and accompanying products be?

The answer is, quite. See, ultimately, I don’t just work with mobility technology, but the people who use it – and that is phenomenally complex. Living with disability ranges from complicated at best, to harrowing at worst, and the people I serve experience some of life’s most difficult emotions. To further this complexity, no two people I serve are in the same circumstance. Day to day, I deal with all socio-economic positions, the widest range of medical needs, and, alas, an infinite number of perspectives on living with disability. As I bluntly put it, individuals I serve can range from frustrating to heart-wrenching. It is a role, however, I cherish because as one with a disability myself, I often feel that I’m in the trenches right next to those I serve.

Interestingly, my career has paralleled the growth of the Internet and e-commerce, where virtually all of those I serve reach out to me electronically, from email to Facebook to texting – the ways of 21-century communication. If someone is in need of my assistance, it lands as a font in front of me on a screen. While digital correspondence is effective – and has allowed me to serve countless individuals over the years – I recently realized that it wasn’t fully meeting the needs of many I serve. Yes, it’s convenient, gets a point across, and works 24 hours per day. However, I’ve long found myself reading between the lines of digital correspondence. Sure, wheelchair problems are easily written. But, often there are hints of issues beyond a rattling wheel or growling motor. Topics from I don’t have anyone to help me to I lost my health insurance creep into the correspondences. So, I wondered, how could I better serve individuals beyond what’s volleyed in text on a screen? How could I get more of individuals’ stories in order to both better meet their mobility needs and connect with them, person-to-person?

I did something radical – I literally went backward with technology in order to improve my relations with those I serve. One Monday morning, I put a stake in the ground and vowed that my response to any electronic correspondence I received was going to be, “Please call me at your earliest convenience, and I’ll be glad to help.” …And it worked. My office and cell phone began ringing, and not only was I able to more quickly, accurately diagnose individuals’ mobility needs, but I was able to get to know them on a very real, personal level, and that, too, allowed me to better serve them.

The result has been astounding. I still hear heart-wrenching stories, but not so much anger or frustrations, and more importantly, I hear the entirety of individuals’ experiences. Each call serves someone’s mobility needs, but also connects us on a far more interpersonal level than digital correspondence. What I’ve learned is that the greatest technologies of all are the ones that best allow us to truly connect in our shared humanity.

speak-up-quote

By Mark E. Smith

Have you ever thought about the power that fear has in your life? No, I don’t mean a fear such as that of public speaking or bugs or heights – those are all trivial. I’m speaking of fears that truly impact us: the fear to express ourselves to our partners; the fear of expressing vulnerabilities; the fear to truly just be who we are; and other such fears that emotionally stifle us.

And, it’s painful and debilitating, isn’t it? How many of us have been in a marriage or relationship, and have an inexplicable – or, sometimes, rightful – fear of expressing our needs or desires to our partners? We lay in bed at night, feeling alone, and our hearts just ache, don’t they?

Or, how many of us are living with trauma in our past of some kind, and we fear sharing it with anyone? The result is we feel isolated, needing to keep people at arm’s length, don’t we?

Or, how many of us are dissatisfied with our life paths overall, but we fear telling anyone because we don’t want to rock the boat or upset those around us? It leaves us trapped, doesn’t it?

I’ve faced many challenges in my life, but the absolute most difficult has been conquering such deep emotional fears of expression. And, it remains an ongoing process, where bursts of courage have been allowing me to slowly become more and more open over the years – read that, more honest with myself and those around me. I’ve been on a deliberate and liberating path from emotionally fearful to fearless.

In knowing my struggles and progress in this very personal emotional battle, I recently had the privilege of having a friend confide his fear to me. He was diagnosed two years ago with ALS, which has progressed very rapidly, his now using a power wheelchair and losing physical abilities day-by-day till he passes away. However, he’s been the picture of strength, not only for his wife and children, but for his whole community.

Despite his outward portrayal, he shared with me that he’s been keeping a secret, one he fears telling anyone. As I listened, he paused and said just two words: I’m scared.

Everyone handles adversity in his or her own way. However, any reasonable person who’s slowly dying, leaving behind a spouse and children has every reason to be scared. Yet, out of fear of not being “the strong one” that all labeled him as, he was terrified to express his real emotion, not wanting to let others down, as he put it. Meanwhile, he was struggling on this frightening journey internally alone – fear had him trapped within himself.

I asked, if he was to put his fear aside and share those two words – I’m scared – with his wife, how would she react? His answer was breathtaking: I know she’d reply, “I’m scared, too….”

I haven’t learned if he was able to ever have that conversation with his wife, but I hope he did because I trust it would bring them closer together and allow them to be more open in supporting each other in this process. You can’t have genuinely heartfelt conversations as long as you have fear.

See, that’s what overcoming such fear does – it opens us up. Sometimes we receive a positive response to releasing our deepest fears into the world, while other times a disappointing response. However, the reward of expressing ourselves, despite our fears, is in our actions, not the result. The power, for example, in coming out as gay isn’t in seeking approval; rather, it’s about not living in fear of being oneself. This equally applies to no matter what we’re keeping inside. Expression over fear liberates.

What I’ve learned in my own process – from my relationships to my career – is that life is more authentic when I choose to live openly as myself rather than stifled by fear.

struggle

By Mark E. Smith

I had the privilege of Ms. Wheelchair International, Yvette Pegues, visiting recently. She’s one, like many of us, who’s not only faced challenges, but continues facing them on a daily basis. As I always value, our conversations became deep and heartfelt very quickly, and she asked me a profound question: How do we express the truth of our struggles?

It’s a question many of us who struggle – whether physically, emotionally or mentally – face every day. After all, how candid should we be about our struggles, and with whom?

For me, I see it as a vital balance. We all have those in our lives who pour out every little problem to everyone they meet. There’s nothing authentic about ”woe-is-me” individuals. However, what is authentic is sharing valid, appropriate truth about our struggles. See, when we genuinely have struggles in our lives, it can feel natural to keep them to ourselves because… well… we don’t want to feel like we’re playing the woe-is-me card. Yet, not only do we benefit from being honest about our struggles, but it can also serve others. The only way others can truly know and help us is by our letting them know of our struggles, and in that process it can be remarkably comforting to others because they, too, have their struggles. For all of us, there’s power in not feeling alone – and that’s what the process of sharing the truth of our struggles does.

My wife and I were at church one Sunday, and a parishioner came up to us and said, “I know it took you more than most to get here this morning, and I want you to know I appreciate that.” His words were kind and empathetic – and remarkably true. He had to have known of disability experience, as it does take many of us hours to get ready in the morning. Nevertheless, what touched me was his emotional extension, having the heart to subtly say to me, a stranger, I know the truth of your struggles.

For those of us who know struggles in our own lives, we can be remarkably intuitive in recognizing it in others. Expressing the truth of struggles that we see in another can be an ultimate act of compassion and connection. No, we don’t need to give a drawn-out soliloquy. Rather a simple acknowledgement that simply says, I truly see you, and you’re not alone in this… can take weight off of the spirit.

Let us not just have the courage to express the truth of our own struggles, but to also have the courage to express the truth of others’ struggles, with compassion and connection. Ultimately, let expressing the truth of our struggles not be about us, but togetherness.

20151010_174902-2

By Mark E. Smith

We’ve all heard at least some version of among the most traditional wedding vows in modern western culture:

I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.

And, for those among us who are married, ideally we live up to those vows, at minimum.

However, here’s an intriguing question – why don’t we practice such vows toward ourselves, as individuals? Put simply, why are we so reluctant to apply such unconditional love to ourselves? Why don’t we consistently honor ourselves in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow, loving ourselves, supporting ourselves in our goals, to honor and respect ourselves, to cherish ourselves?

I see the struggles of this every day, on a multitude of levels, from family to friends to within the community. Countless life experiences can throw us into emotional tail spins, where our identity – namely, self-worth – degrades. Why is that? After all, when someone we love faces challenges, we embrace, love and respect them. We’re remarkably unconditional when it comes to applying the practice of vows not just toward our spouses, but toward everyone around us. Yet, we’re not so generous toward ourselves, are we? We can see the beauty in others, but not ourselves. We can note the strength in others, but not ourselves. We can compliment others, but not ourselves. And, alas, we can love others unconditionally, but not ourselves.

A lot of this is conditioned into us, whether by a society that suggests it in so many ways – from airbrushed models in magazines to the notion of thinking highly of oneself is “arrogant” – or by being emotionally abused and convinced we’re not worthy. In fact, a startling statistic in the U.S. is that 60% of us have been emotionally abused to a degree that diminishes our self-esteem. When we add all this up, it’s clear that we live in a society where little priority is put on valuing “oneself” in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. The fact is, many of us are conditioned to not feel good enough, no matter the circumstance.

And, it has to stop. We owe it not just to our spouses and others to practice vows of unconditional love and acceptance, but to ourselves. None of us are perfect, but why not commend ourselves for trying our best at what we do? We don’t invite adversity in our lives, so why not allow ourselves to recognize all is not our fault? We all have weaknesses, but why not be proud of our strengths? No one is better than another, but why not embrace our uniqueness? We love others, so why not love ourselves?

As one who’s struggled with all of the above, I can tell you that making that shift – that is, making the vow to love and honor yourself in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow – doesn’t just improve your life, but also everyone’s life around you. When we humbly understand all that we are worthy of, it makes it so much easier to smile and offer all of us to others in ways that enrich the lives of both.

I know it’s extremely difficult to heal all of the wounds that blur our vision to how amazing we each are, how the words of affirmation we hear from those who know our beauty somehow don’t appear to us in a mirror. And, yet, the true “us” is there, to love in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. Yes, it’s in honoring such vows toward ourselves that not only elevates our lives, but it’s also the key to elevating our vows toward all others. Let us vow to love and cherish – including ourselves.