Looking in the Mirror

I was newly injured and beside myself with changes.  I was choking on everything I had to swallow…literally and hypothetically speaking.  There was so much commotion going on as a result of my spinal cord injury, I couldn’t focus on one thing.  I was worried about where I would live, who would take care of me, how I would make a life for myself, and my weight.  The latter seemed insignificant in comparison to the enormity of my new disability but it was constantly bobbing in the back of my mind like a buoy in a large body of water.

I had always been athletic as a child, and loved the endorphin rush I would get from exercising.  Growing up, sports were such a big part of my life, and the thought of never exercising or doing a back handspring was more than my vulnerable mind could handle.  I always knew that no matter how bad my days were…I could jog or put on some tunes, and dance away the stressors of life.  When I had my accident I was heartbroken for many reasons, but the fact that I would never walk, run, or dance again was unimaginable.

When I was in the hospital and shortly thereafter, I visualized myself running and flipping gracefully in my parent’s backyard.  Denial, in its truest form, perpetrated against healing, and instead encouraged me to live in an imaginary world where I was capable and independent.  Before I knew it, I was mentally exhausted, and physically, I had gained ten pounds.

I finally realized that something was going to have to change…I just didn’t know what.  And then one autumn day at my parent’s house, I sat in front of the television with my breakfast.  Greasy eggs, sausage patties, and two butter drenched pieces of toast looked appealingly at me.  I remember staring at the plump sausage patties thinking, “Do I really want to eat this?

As I salivated for the scrumptious food, I could hear my physical therapist’s gravely voice “Be careful.  You know sitting all the time can cause you to become overweight.”  The hospital rehabilitation staff reiterated the importance of eating a healthy balanced diet or else I could end up with the quad tummy.  So there I was….at war with my taste buds and mind.  One minute I was contemplating eating the greasy breakfast, and the other minute, envisioning myself sitting in a wheelchair with a stomach like a basketball.

“One minute I was contemplating eating the greasy breakfast, and the other minute, envisioning myself sitting in a wheelchair with a stomach like a basketball.”

It has been 19 years since I dove into a pool and became a quadriplegic.  For the most part, I am healthy besides the occasional bladder infection or toe sore.  I am truly grateful for the revelation (in the form of greasy food) that day at my parent’s home.  I decided to give up the temptations that a true carnivore could never do…stop eating meat.  Truly, it wasn’t that big of a challenge for me, and the health benefits seemed to outweigh any prime rib.  I vowed on carrot sticks that I would never eat meat again.  That was 17 years ago.

Through the years, products have made it easy for me to expand my vegetarian habits.  A regular breakfast for me includes two organic eggs from vegetarian-fed hens, fake bacon, and whole wheat toast.  I eat a lot of soy products like tofu (it’s really not that bad), beans, grains, and fruits and vegetables.  I drink plenty of water, stay away from pop, and never frequent fast food restaurants.  I try to eat three meals a day with two snacks in between.

Not only did I view eating as an integral part of staying healthy I knew my mind was vital in maintaining optimal balance in my life.  My thoughts had wreaked havoc on my behavior for the first two years of my accident.  This intensity affected how I viewed the world.  My potential happiness was manacled to the treacherous thoughts of being disabled.  I was lost in the shadow of what I thought my life should have been, and this denial was poisonous venom that seeped into my veins.  However, I didn’t quite know how to stop the vicious cycle of combat between what I knew I should do, and what the conductor of pain and disappointment kept urging my mind to think.

And then one day…I was reading one of my psychology books (that’s when I actually read my text books) that spoke about Victor Frankl.  He experienced and witnessed horrible atrocities during the holocaust.  He survived from knowing there was one thing the Nazis could never take from him…his mind.  The only control Mr. Frankl had over his life had been his thoughts, and no one could ever take those away from him.  This struck me as extremely profound especially since I had finally begun to understand the power of thinking.  Cheers to Mr. Frankel’s philosophy because this was the beginning of my own search for meaning in relation to my experiences:

“For the meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day and from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person’s life at a given moment.” – Victor Frankl

Being healthy means finding what works in the divots of one’s life, and the meaning you find when something makes sense to you.  Eating a vegetarian diet, feeding my soul with love and laughter, meditating, listening to music, reading, and painting are constituents that mold my existence, and help me embrace the delicacies in life.

How have you found happiness and life balance? What do you do to keep your body and mind healthy?