March 2 / 2014
As many of you know, I’m writing a book about my recovery experiences, a book about my pilgrimage to return (I hope and expect) to rowing and other physical activities that I have lost the ability to do, the ones I miss.
After completing the first draft (and going back through it scores of times polishing), I sent it to the best editor I know for input. She did a meticulous job line-editing it, and included comments (Kathy: please forgive me if I get this wrong, but it’s what I understood your email), all of which were very valuable. All except one that was a little off-putting: “You might want to reconsider the ending.” I took a deep breath and kept an open mind.
Remarkably, that comment turned out to be the most valuable of all. Here’s what happened:
Re-reading it with an eye toward narrative flow, I was on the look-out for a wrong turn, and when I reached the end and found a mish-mash of pasted-in paragraphs, non-starters that I had neglected to remove, I thought, “Bingo.” I then removed them, so that the end was all cleaned up and the way I had intended.
The next time I read through, when I got to the end, I realized that that was NOT the ending I wanted, that I had arrived at the wrong conclusion, that I no longer believed the conclusion to be true, that I really needed to “reconsider the ending.”
I had ended with the observation that the stroke survivor had been given a second chance and now had the opportunity to rebuild a life, to do a reset. I suggested examining his/her life and keeping the positive components, while rejecting the negative ones. “Jettison the negative,” is the common phrase. This includes rejecting friends and family members who are unsupportive or critical; eliminating negative thoughts and remaining positive; and recognizing blessings and expressing gratitude.
While those are good suggestions that might be a good first step for survivors inundated by negativity and struggling to breathe, I actually don’t believe it’s a mature, self-aware response to pain. I don’t find that a quest to reject everything negative from a life solves problems; instead it shuts a person down and guards against opportunities to grow.
And it’s not what I’ve done in my own post-stroke life, so why was I giving that trite advice to others? Instead, my response has been to try to counter, rather than reject, the negative.
This pilgrimage of mine, my trek toward recovery, has encouraged me to meet frustration, anger, and insults with kindness, not my own anger and resultant rejection. To remain open and communicative, not shut down. It has worked for me – I am happy and well adjusted, although not complacent or accepting of my limitations.
I’m still working hard to get back to rowing those gig boats. It may take me the rest of my life, but that’s what I’ve got.
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