Sorry, I’m Not Listening

I have tried, failed, tried again, only to miserably fail but what do I do? I try again. Foolish? Not at all, although I often do feel the fool. The key for me is to know I’m doing my very best, even when things don’t work out how I planned. Really? Isn’t that how life is, anyway, with or without a brain tumor? If I’m honest with myself, life has always been a series of successes and failures, achievements and meh, not so much.

In the myopic world surrounding me, I don’t see the forest or the trees, but I do see every crack and pebble or stick laying on the sidewalk. You see, since brain surgery, my failures have gone from failure to win a Grammy or revolutionize the world of online marketing to getting soap in my eyes every single time I shower. My successes have transformed from negotiating the biggest deal my company has ever landed to buttoning my shorts by myself. It’s all about perspective and the way I see it, I have two choices. I can wallow and cry about what I can no longer do, or I can focus and improve on what I can do.

Believe me, it’s not like magic. If I was to tell you, I’m always positive, you would know I’m a liar. Life is a challenge for everyone. Those of us with disabilities simply have specific circumstances that can and often do complicate life’s many challenges. For many of us, day to day tasks themselves can pose a real challenge.

I, personally, have difficulty walking and have to concentrate on each step. My partner and I took a walk the other day and she was chatting away telling me all about something. I stopped and turned to her, “You do realize I don’t hear a word you’re saying when we’re walking?” She did not and I understand. Walking is nothing to most people but to me, it takes a conscious effort to take each and every step. I don’t want to walk in silence, just understand that I may not hear anything but “lift your foot and reach” said over and over again in my head. I’m not ignoring you, I’m avoiding a face plant.