It’s Worse Than Before But Still Good

This is something that has been a lingering and slow developing thought that I finally had some conclusive internal dialog about.

I am often told how inspiration I am. Thank you. I guess I am. I won’t try to argue against it. But I don’t feel that way. I’m just doing what I do. I don’t see how it’s inspirational. I feel like just a normal guy who does things. This amount of humbleness is probably making you throw up in your mouth. Nonetheless, it’s true. Maybe because I’ve never really felt inspired by anyone. I’ve had admiration and respect for many people, but I don’t think I can honestly say I’ve been inspired. It’s possible that I’m forgetting something or that I have been inspired but haven’t labeled the feeling as such. Whatever. The point is that when people see me do pull-ups, travel, have a positive attitude, and otherwise go about life as if nothing is wrong, I suspect that what they call inspirational is actually a feeling of “if I were him, there’s no way I could or would be doing all that.” No one knows what they’re capable of until they are faced with a challenge. A lot of people don’t do half the things I’ve done in a wheelchair in twice or five times the years. So, I suppose some people really couldn’t do what I do if they were in my situation. That doesn’t mean it’s all that special.

There is a difference between hard and harder.

That’s the main idea that has been lingering in my thinking brain and what I’m writing about now. Yes, going to the gym is harder is some objective & quantifiable ways. Getting in and out of the car is hard amongst other things I can’t think of. Once I’m in the gym, I do what I can and I struggle the same as everyone else. We move heavy weight and try to do more tomorrow. We build ourselves slowly, with dedication and consistency. I am no different or any more special than whoever is with me in the gym 5 days a week ad infinitum. Just because my life is harder, doesn’t mean it’s actually harder in the way you might think.

Everything is harder. Nearly everything I do is objectively harder in that it takes more effort, more time, more ATP energy, or psychologically. But this does not mean that everything I do is actually hard as in difficult. Harder does not mean hard.

When I was at a bodybuilding show, signing in and getting my number, I talked to a few people backstage and one of the conversations I was part of was between me, a retired wheelchair bodybuilder and a magazine photographer. The photographer mentioned how much respect they have for the wheelchair bodybuilders and made reference to the other guy competing at the Olympia a few years back. I kept my mouth shut but here’s the truth. It is no special. I might be the only honest person to say this. Wheelchair bodybuilding is not special. Forget the wheelchair. I didn’t have to overcome anything other than the same exact suffering that any good bodybuilder endures. Bodybuilding is essentially this: super human discipline, scientific starvation, weightlifting. Drugs too but they don’t actually make any of that easier. There is no reason that I can see why I should get more praise than the next guy over. We literally do the same thing, I just skip leg day. I feel the same way about losing weight. I’ve now come to learn that 99% is just being in a calorie deficit. Exercise helps with muscle mass and looking good, but it has nearly no effect on actual weight loss. It’s all about a healthy calorie deficit. I once saw someone in a wheelchair talk about their weight loss journey. That’s good for them, but being in a wheelchair does not make it impressive or inspirational. Being overweight and being in a wheelchair (via a spinal cord injury or whatever) are two totally separate things.

I guess I went off the rails there for a little bit. The point is that harder does not mean that it’s actually become hard. Not everything instantaneously becomes some monumental Atlas or Herculean task. Getting in my car is not hard. It’s just harder than what normal people do. I won’t lecture or scold anyone for complimenting me on doing it. I did once see someone who was resenting, complaining, and lashing out against those who complimented them for doing simple daily tasks such as getting into a car. I saw this as a social media post. I hated it. Let people be impressed. Say thank you and give yourself a pat on the back because it actually is impressive. Just because something gets worse, doesn’t mean it’s now bad. If you get a rock in your shoe during a beautiful hike, does that ruin the view?

Edit: Here’s an example that I think really gets the point across. I was just talking with my brother about this. How do I articulate to you that just because the way I do things is harder, it’s not actually hard.

Here’s the example. When I get into the car (like I’ve been mentioning), I have to transfer into the car and then take my wheelchair apart. This makes getting into the car take more time and effort than for a normal person. BUT, if my brother gets in the wheelchair, lifts himself into the car, and does everything I do for taking the wheelchair apart and lifting it into the car, he would say “oh, that wasn’t that hard.”

I have an added process for getting into the car, which makes it harder. That extra process, however, is not difficult in and of itself.

I hope you can understand this.

Being Different and Being a Leader

Cosmo giving a speech

If you’re in a wheelchair, or have some injury/disability, no doubt you’re different.

Whenever I’m in a group, either as the designated leader or just assuming the role, I always take notice to those who are a little reclusive and get them involved. When people are shy or feel out of place, they might pull back from the group a little and if no one makes a conscious effort, they will easily be left out. I always (or I like to think I always do) take notice of those more introverted in a group and try and make sure they feel included and give them the hand reaching out or the nudge they need.

I was re-reading Creativity, Inc. by Ed Catmull with Amy Wallace and decided to watch some Pixar shorts. The early ones give me a nostalgic feeling and remind me of when I was a little dude sitting on the ground, eating popcorn and watching a film on one of those huge TVs that use VCR tapes. That baby always gave me the jeebies

You can interpret the moral of this short below however you want, but my main takeaways were of being a leader and being different – disability or otherwise.

Here’s the short and after watching, I have a few things to point out that are worth making a mental or physical note of.

Pixar short – Purl

You’ll notice that Purl doesn’t quite fit in, though her skills are what got her the job (through the resume). The first lesson here is that no matter who you are, it’s what you can do to help and the value you give that matters. Like the quadriplegic I mentioned in this post (under the Generous Luck section), he was eager to do more and made it known to me. I was worried that he would overlook his opportunity to use his voice, words, and mind as a tool to develop and master a skill that would render everything else unimportant.

You’ll also notice that Purl gets ignored and left out. It’s not always appropriate to force yourself into situations, but without a sponsor – someone to bring you into the group – it can be hard to fit in and join the group.

Purl subsequently changes herself to fit in and when someone like her past self comes in, she realizes how she betrayed who she truly is.

Don’t change yourself to fit in. When it comes to the work life or college/school, all you need is to find one good or great friend and they will help you, or at the least, you can both take on the world together.

If you’re the only one, wherever you are, with a disability then you’ll definitely feel alone. Stay true to who you are, and stay positive. Soon enough, people will recognize that you can’t be affected by external things (if you build up that skill) and will respect you for it. Getting discouraged is possible, but there is always at least one person that you can confide in. The person who hired you or the leader of where you are. Leaders – good ones – are inclusive and understanding, they’re a leader because first, people were able to go to them and see them as someone that can help.

If you are being left out because of your disability, face it head on. You could even call you own meeting to set people straight if you’re that bold, or you could prove yourself through your work, or just stay persistent and maybe your own Lacey will join the workplace and then you can both start tackling the issue.

I began to think of this as analogous to disability in the workplace when, at the end, you’ll notice that everyone became better because of acceptance. You’ll notice that people had colored shirts on, the work was flowing, and there were all types of different characters getting along swimmingly.

Another lesson in this short is that if you have the opportunity to reach out to someone and include them, do it. You’ll make the world better for it. Don’t let social pressure pin you down and freeze you. All it takes is you and someone who you can help, even if that person is yourself.

When I worked at Kimberly-Clark, I never had a problem with being included. Everyone was beyond nice and it felt how the end of the short looked, inclusive and supportive. Although I was the only one in a wheelchair, I didn’t feel isolated because of it.

I was able to pretty much forget about it – a feeling I have often when I’m with the right people.

I was brought nearly to tears by the end of this short. It doesn’t take much for me.

This is a rather sporadic post, so I don’t have reading time or the typical summary and action items. I do have an overdeliver though.


Overdeliver: If you’re looking for places that are disability friendly, look at this website here. There are some companies that are accessibly and inclusive and aren’t on this list, so if you’re looking at a specific company, you can look at the resources on the aforementioned site and ask some questions.