Ever noticed…that there appears to be more people, that society considers on the margins, out and about...walking greenways or trails or doing whatever they can do because society has made it easier for them to do so?
This is something, it seems to me, that society should both be able and sensitive enough to help provide for its citizens, who struggle with things in life. It seems consistent with a Judeo-Christian ethic, at the very least. Some may view such things as a subsidy, or an enablement (whatever terms might be closer to somehow being a benefactor). But, perhaps a less conspicuous benefit, so to speak, is that seeing people with everything from simple inhibitions all the way through serious disabilities being able to participate and enjoy more of life might actually inform those who remain naïve to the truth about our own condition. Or, put this way, we can consider the possibility that whatever losses may still await us, there are many others who have not only endured what we might otherwise call setbacks of these kinds, but also turned their disposition towards what can still be done, in spite of certain limitations.
I suspect that there are very few human-beings, over the course of their existence, that don’t encounter some kind of disablement. Those that have not chosen (or been forced) to deal with even some of the harshness of those realities might have a more difficult time embracing the possibilities that remain, rather than simply the losses incurred.
I was walking on a greenway the other day and noticed a woman walking her dog. She obviously had some problems with her legs. As she got closer, I noticed that she had special shoes, which I’m guessing were part of what it took for her to be able to walk at all (not to mention to walk for leisure on the greenway with her dog). It struck me as I observed her go by that she quite possibly was still in some degree of discomfort, even as she was possibly enabled by different forms of assistance (like her shoes). The thought occurred to me that it was as much about her choice to try to participate in something that she wanted to be able to do as anything else. Perhaps she was thinking the whole time about many of the things I suspect would go through my mind (at least at one point or another) about how hard it was for her to walk or why she couldn’t more freely do it like everybody else on the trail (or a whole host of other forms of complaint). But my impression was, having seen her walking before, that her disposition was closer to something like, "I’m going to try to figure out a way to do what I can and what I want to do and not let my disability keep me from participating in and living life as much as possible".
What slows me down, too often, is pain. I can too easily become disheartened by the endurance pain sometimes requires (not saying this to minimize the impact of pain). I have to wonder whether I feel like the highest concern — pain — is too often the most acid-test of what it means to exist in healthy ways, to whatever degree I am able to do so. I suspect, though, that merely the observation of someone moving even within their limitations, creates new space for questions I might not have otherwise imagined. We all, in fact, have kinds of pain and limitations...continue here.
