Tag: mental health

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The Perspective Of Meaning

If you consider anything from a perspective of a time distance enough for it to not have any meaning, well then it won’t have any meaning. It’s a trueism often spoken in other ways such as “nothing matters anyway, we’re all gonna die” and the like. What I never hear anyone talk about is the opposite – instead of going further and further out into time until we reach the heat death of the universe, starting from there and coming closer and closer to the present moment until there is a difference / meaning.

Almost everything is forgotten or disappears over time. After a few generations, you will be an ancestor whose genetics and traits are all but gone along with any memory of you. With this perspective, it feels like there’s no point in trying hard or anything. It’s almost a feeling of hopelessness or whatever German word exists for realizing how little control & effect we have over most of our life and environment. It feels like the world wouldn’t really be different without me.

All this is a matter of perspective. The above is the wrong perspective. It’s just so easy to believe that the world will continue on and be unaffected by our living or dying that we don’t stop to question why it’s worth thinking this way. Not debating how true it is and with what caveats, but rather why do we let this be our default perspective? The right perspective is that everything does matter. Because we exist now and there is nothing more worth considering. If I can make someone happy now, help someone now, be valuable now, well, this is the only time it matters. How long lasting are the effects of when I went to Africa for a mission trip? Did I impact all those kids in a positive way that will ripple through time? Maybe or maybe not. But that’s not what’s important. What I would rather focus on is that in those very moments of helping is where the impact was. It’s not my concern if they remember me today or tell their kids about me in 10 years. In the moments I had to help, I did and it was significant.

For climate change and other things like that, it’s very important to consider our actions in this moment as they relate to the future. But other than that, my argument is that it’s pointless and maybe even harmful to thing too far out into the future. We will all be forgotten and lost in time. But that never was and never will be the point. The point of it all is what we do now. Not to be remembered, but to be.

PS instead of thinking whether or not something will “matter” in 10 years, ask if it will matter tomorrow, in the next hour, in the next month.

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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.

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People in Wheelchairs Have Gotta Get Away

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This is something on my mind and one of those rare occurrences where I will indict myself and say, “do as I say, not as I do.”

At the time of my writing this, there is a global pandemic. But I write for the future as well as the present, so viruses aside, here’s what I have to say this week.

Unconditionally, going outside – preferably in nature or with people around – is beneficial for your mental health.

Go outside. Go for a walk. Go downtown unless it’s closed for the virus.

Too often people aren’t going outside and unless they have a really good reason to do something, people will migrate towards the most convenient thing. It could be laying down, watch TV, social media, eat, or doing something not necessary or the best use of time.

Especially for those that are in a wheelchair or have a seeming obstacle to going outside, this is why you must do it.

When I was getting my car, I sent a message out to a group and asked for car advice. Someone in a wheelchair sent me a long message raving and praising minivans and telling me that I absolutely need to get one.

I am adamantly against minivans on the grounds that I don’t like them. I can’t be persuaded otherwise, however, the argument I was told by that person along with many others who don’t share my taste in vehicles was that it would be easy to get in and out, which does matter.

It wasn’t the minivan that people loved, but the value it can give to those in wheelchairs – reducing effort to go out.

It’s true – getting in and out of a van or some maddingly modified vehicle is about as easy as opening the front door and walking in.

If it’s such an endeavor to get in and out of your car, the likelihood of not going anywhere will increase. It’s how everyone is. Ask someone if they want to go somewhere but then tell them they need to do 50 pushups first and watch as they reason how staying home is better because they have dishes to wash anyway.

I’m giving you an order, even in the thickest snow, hardest rain, and repelling heat, go outside and remind yourself that you’re in the world.

Don’t be a hermit that stays inside all the time, too many people have told me stories of people in wheelchairs who become secluded and never leave.

Of course, there are some exceptions, such as myself with college where I do find myself inside much of the time studying, however, I’m not afraid to get out and have an adventure or fall over a few times. Even so, I should be going out for a walk by the water at least once every few days, and I’ll start doing so.

Immediate actionable items: Mark times to go outside on your calendar. The first thing in the morning is best because as the day progresses, more will come up and you’ll find an excuse to not go outside.  Write down, “I will do ____ every X days.” as a contract to your mental and physical health.

Summary: If you’re in a wheelchair or have any obstacle of any type, that is no excuse to not go outside at least once a day and go for a walk, see some people, see some trees. It’s easy to stay inside, which is why going outside is so necessary.

Overdeliver:  Marking things on your calendar make you more likely to commit to doing them. Have a friend go with you to make it more enjoyable or go alone and take time to think and be present in the world.

Having someone else makes both of you accountable for the other and it’ll become something you look forward to.