I'm
pushing down the bike path along the Hudson River on a beautiful spring day. At
a nice steady pace, arms pumping, wheels turning, savoring every ray of the
April sun, enjoying the gentle breeze, delighting in the sudden burst of
brilliant colors here and there along the way. Tulips and daffodils have
bloomed, it seems to me, overnight. Arms pumping, wheels turning, in smooth
even motions, I roll almost effortlessly, my body and my wheelchair in tune
with the springtime, rejoicing in this season of rebirth and of overwhelming
beauty. Bicycle riders pass me by, skaters and joggers run alongside me. I am
one with all who are moving in tune with the springtime, with all who are
rejoicing on this glorious day.
A
woman is approaching, on the opposite side of the path, jogging with what seems
to me a great deal of effort. She is not young, a bit older than I am, and she
is quite a bit overweight. As she gets closer to me I can see that she's
breathing heavily and there are beads of perspiration on her forehead. I'm
looking at her thinking she should slow down, walk the path rather than jog,
enjoy the day. She looks straight at me, and she does slow down. She slows down
so she can say to me, with feeling and sincere admiration: "You are an
inspiration!"
I
am an inspiration to her. I guess she thinks what I'm doing is incredibly
courageous. She thinks pushing a wheelchair must be a thousand times harder
than jogging when you're out of shape. She thinks if I'm out on this bike path,
then certainly she should sweat and huff and puff and be grateful. Be grateful
that, though she's getting older, though the battle of the bulge is getting
harder to win every day, though life might not be fair, though troubles may
abound, at least she's not a cripple like me.
Lady,
I'm sure I've done things in my life that could be considered inspirational, as
I'm sure you have. But going down this nice smooth path in my wonderful,
ultra-light, ultra-maneuverable wheelchair on this glorious spring day is
nothing but a great joy. See? Almost no effort at all. Beats jumping curbs and
watching out for potholes; sure beats trying to get to work when mountains of
snow block the curb cuts. Life can be hard for us all, lady, but springtime
comes, time for us all to be inspired and to rejoice.
On
this beautiful spring day, with so much inspiration all around us, why do you
need to be inspired by me and my wheelchair? Why must you rejoice in what you
think is my misfortune, when we can both equally rejoice in this so clear so
blue sky? Why must you find comfort in thinking my plight worse than yours?
Aren't we both infinitely worse off than this magnolia tree that blooms with
such an incredible explosion of beauty every spring? Why must you feel grateful
that you're not like me? Why can't we both be happy to be exactly who we are?
And be grateful to meet on this bike path, both alive on this wonderful earth,
both rejoicing in the overwhelming beauty of this glorious spring day?
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