No Prisoner the Mind

The body was crippled up, probably with ALS, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Lou Gehrig's disease, he wasn't as bad as Stephen Hawking, but he was still young and I assumed time would not be his friend.  He looked to be in his thirties; hard to tell with the body surrendering itself to physical ravages of its own making.  The body didn't move much and the face seemed to remain emotionless as the eyes constantly wandered through his surroundings, locking on this person or that for only a moment before pressing on.  I was much too focused on watching him to consciously understand what I'd just thought, and became aware only when our eyes met, two blank stares and my mouth slightly open as if trying to verbalize the "whoops" I was thinking about being caught staring.

His head was cocked to one side, as if the effort to hold it up was more than the body could deal with.  His eyebrow suddenly hitched up as if to confirm he'd caught me, an accusation I could not deny.  My only way out was to do what I always do - fall back and punt.  I closed my stupid mouth, cocked my head slightly to one side and arched my eyebrow, mocking him, yet not with an intent to poke fun.  He smiled in a silent understanding.

I returned the smile and noticed his finger was slightly moving as if to point toward the floor, his eyes moving in tandem to the motion until I once again understood.  I had dropped my sunglasses without realizing it.  I reached down, retrieved them, and mouthed a silent thank you.  He smiled to me again just as his caregiver returned.  His eyes glanced up to acknowledge her, then back to me as the wheelchair was moved off down the hall, a silent goodbye passed between us, and he was gone.

This is not my first encounter with those whom are wheelchair bound and seem to be prisoners of their dysfunctional bodies.  It seems to me the younger folks deal with these maladies much better than the older of us.  Maybe it's because we know what we're losing; we know how our lives are going to change.  This isn't losing a limb, or being paralyzed, though the latter is as close as I'd think one can get.  This is losing an ability to even communicate without extreme effort, and yet, there is communication.  One has to wonder if Stephen Hawking would have accomplished as much in theoretical physics were he to have had a normal life where his mind could be cluttered by minutia, and if we are not enjoying the fruits of his captive mind.   

One might wonder the cruelty of God, and what this particular test of resolve would possibly accomplish for this poor soul, or the people around them.  As always, like most of us, I selfishly thought of how there, but for the grace of this same God, went my children, grandchildren, or me.  Is this poor soul enduring all of this as a reminder for the rest of us to be ever thankful for the small things we take so much for granted?  Is it not a test for them at all but, rather, a test for someone else, as this person is simply playing out their role in a greater drama God has written for another?  Or, could it be that, in the next life, this suffering will serve them well in a much more important time to come, a time when people able to endure suffering and lead others from darkness will be of greater value than this relatively short moment in time?  Stephen has taken to the belief there is no God, while other physicists are proving to themselves that the universe is nothing if not proof of a divine hand.  Is the difference in Stephen's ALS?  Does he assign blame?  And, if he does, and this is the reason for denying God, is not assigning blame a contradiction?

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

- Hamlet (1.5.167-8), Hamlet to Horatio

Just when I think I have this down pat, once again I find myself all the poorer for not having taken some time to know this person. To, at the very least, have introduced myself and treated them with the respect due another human being and not just an oddity to be gawked at in life. A shortcoming I must still work on is the humility to move passed my selfish embarrassment of having acknowledged their existence, and into the realm of common courtesy to another, equal, person.  I still have much to learn.

Don't we all?

Editor's Note 

(re: disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card) 

Before you go getting your panties in a bunch, it is essential to understand that this is just an opinion site and, as such, can be subjected to scrutiny by anyone with a differing opinion. It doesn't make either opinion any more right or wrong than the other. An opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form opinions of their own, if they haven't already done so.

It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and then engaging in peaceful, constructive, discussion and debate in an arena of mutual respect concerning the opinions put forth. After over twenty years as a military intelligence analyst, planner, and briefer, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.

We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we do afterward, and what we learn from the experience.

Frank Anthony Villari (aka, Pastor Tony)

Pastor Tony is founder of the Congregation for Religious Tolerance and author/editor of the Congregation's official blog site, "The Path."