Seven years ago today was the day I suffered a paralyzing spinal cord injury.

As you know, I had started a streak of celebrating with food .. that has not held up.

Year 1 was chicken fried steak and eggs, 
year 2 was a fancy milkshake, 
year 3 was fresh spring rolls,
year 4, 5, 6 .. I’m sure I did something, but I didn’t write about it and subsequently forgot.

This year I have nothing planned on this day, but I did smoke tri-tip with my cousins last weekend and that’s going to count.

Today is a big day of reflection for me. I’ve been reading my annual anniversary updates and looking back through pictures of all my exploits. 

For some reason this picture from the day before my injury sticks in my head: 

It represents my normal routine back then, working from a favorite coffee shop in the city. It also represents finding joy in everyday things like this coffee cup.

I believe that taking a minute – before getting on with work – to recognize and relish in such a small moment is a key component to the attitude and underlying character that allowed me to quickly get back to living after paralysis.

It’s a choice to take a minute. A choice we all are capable of making.
(And this is the whole thesis to this writing and most writing I do.)

Which brings us to today.

We’re 7 years into this wheelchair journey. 
I’m 45 years into life as of last week.
We’re 31 days from the IRONMAN World Championships in Kona.

The biggest thing that has been coming up in the last year is what I call ‘Cynicism Creep’.

Reading my past entries, there’s a LOT of positive. A lot of excitement and a lot of high vibration. But last year I missed writing an annual update. I wrote about the circumstances in last week’s blog. 

Add to that the pandemic, the state of conflict both in our country and around the world, and – this particular week – the HEAT wave here in the west.  The tone of our world gives plenty of reason to get cynical.

So where does that leave us? 

Here’s where it leaves me: Focus on what we can control. Create beauty, create smiles where we can.

What if we all were more attentive to our Cynicism Creep? Could we change the course of things big and small in our world? I think so.

Some experts also think so:

Kona, this blog, and pictures of my coffee cup are my efforts.

What are yours?

So about the wine

I tried to NOT ask for support this year. But I’ve found most days are battle to decide which gets more attention: training/rest/recovery or work. Working for myself, I only get paid for the time I work. Travel, physical therapy, tires, tubes, little incidental things – they have been adding up.

So one last time for my personal journey.

Any contribution is welcome, if you’re willing and able! It means a ton financially – and I kid you not – emotionally it means just as much, if not more.  Links are below.

And if you’re down with great wine, at $200 we’ll ship you a bottle of Housley’s Century Oak Winery 2017 Cabernet Sauvignon with a custom #teambalucas label (shown above).

Details below. Links here:

works too (better actually) »

Use this link to send me your mailing address – click here.

Details:

Shipping: If you are in Southern California and we’ll most likely see each other soon, you can subtract $20 in shipping costs if you choose. 

Timing: we may still wait until favorable wine shipping weather (read: not so hot). But expect it before Halloween.

If you don’t want wine or want to contribute less: that’s perfectly fine too. Just send me a message/email/text if you don’t want the wine.

How the wine came to be: read about my connection to the Housley Family.

Today is the 5-year mark since my injury.

Yeah. Time flies, right?

There is so much to share. So much has happened in the last year alone…

But what’s pressing on my mind is a realization I had while watching the documentary Crip Camp on Netflix:

Netflix describes it as “On the heels of Woodstock, a group of teen campers are inspired to join the fight for disability civil rights. This spirited look at grassroots activism is executive produced by President Barack Obama and Michelle Obama. … A groundbreaking summer camp galvanizes a group of teens with disabilities to help build a movement, forging a new path toward greater equality.”
It basically tells the story of the group of teens with disabilities who fought for eventually what became the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).

I really encourage you to watch it, I won’t give more of the story away.

But what I really got from it is that I stand on the shoulders of giants.

Giants with every kind of disability.

Giants with wheelchairs.
Giants with crutches.
Giants with congenital birth defects.
Giants who got hit by buses (watch the documentary).
And other all other kinds of disabled GIANTS.

Now when I walk my dog and cross a street at the curb cutout, I think of this group who occupied a Federal office building in San Francisco for 26 days with all the health issues and risks that I have.

When I park in a handicap parking spot and have the ability to open my door wide and pull out my wheelchair, I think about how these warriors lived life with none of these conveniences.

Many fellow wheelchair users consider me a baby wheelie even at this 5-year mark. I used to refute that moniker.

But after watching this documentary, I realize: yes I am a baby in this new world for me. These people who fought for my ability to access the everyday world with ease are my defacto elders.

—

There’s a part in the documentary where some guy in the Nixon administration says that curb cutouts and dedicated parking spots, amongst other things, were a difficult expense for the budget when compared to the percentage of people who would benefit.

I remember one of my first managers at my first job out of college (many, many years ago) said in an off-hand comment during a happy hour the same sentiment. I didn’t think too much of it back then, but it stuck with me because I think I knew it wasn’t right.

“Prejudice can’t survive proximity…”

What became the ADA isn’t perfect. Enforcement and compliance aren’t perfect. People don’t comply and block/park in/use fake issues in handicap parking all the time.

But holy shit would my life be different if these people’s point of view won out. It would be incredibly harder and more frustrating to operate in this world.

I physically shudder at the thought.

I didn’t have an appreciation for wheelchair living before now because I didn’t have any proximity.

Now that I’m a part of this world and the proximity is my everyday life, I obviously see it from a different angle.

…and I’m not talking about the 4’2” perspective I now have, sitting in a wheelchair.

There is a quote I love by Stephen Beresford, “Prejudice can’t survive proximity, it melts away when you meet and speak to those you fear”.

It’s so relevant in today’s world.

It’s so easy to write off those who are different, especially if we’re not exposed to those people.

But when suddenly a family member comes out of the closet; or someone close becomes disabled … that’s when people’s hearts change and their eyes open. That is when the preconceived notions and priorities change.

It’s disappointing we humans operate that way at times.

But not all humans. And not all the time.

I’ve been fortunate to meet MANY people who have open eyes and open hearts. I make sure to surround myself with them.

It’s a matter of choice, I believe. It’s a matter of whether you’re able to be open or not.

And yes, proximity.

Are you looking down only at your own two feet? Or looking out to see the other people around you?

When you look out, do you do so with judgment – possibly driven by fear? Or could you look out with curiosity – maybe seeking to understand?

Sure it takes a little more energy. But the return is a little bit of connection.

And I’ve never heard of genuine connection as a detriment to one’s life and well-being.

Especially right now.