This is the second of 4 blogs, each exploring a different element of Special Education.

Part 2: The SPECIAL Educators

When you think back on your years in grade school, junior high, or high school, was there one teacher that really made an impact on you? Maybe they gave you creative license to present a project as a talk show rather than a theme paper (My 6th grade English teacher allowed that). Maybe they did crazy things… like walk on the desks and swing across the beams hanging from the ceiling, all while explaining a key concept (My 8th grade history teacher did that). Maybe you were mentored by a teacher or a coach. Maybe you had an experience that led you toward or away from a specific career or field of study.

I suppose, if we really thought about it, we could each say we had at least one special teacher. However, with my limited vision, school was challenging at times. Thankfully, I had two very special teachers, not because of one thing they did, rather because of everything they did. These two women were my Special Education teachers.

When I started Kindergarten, Mrs. Denny was my Special Ed teacher. She helped me to learn Braille. In second grade, when I requested to go to the same school as my twin brother, she agreed to meet me there instead of forcing me to continue at a different school. At the new school, she helped me transition from Braille to large print. In junior high, Mrs. Denny introduced me to a Personal Reading Machine (PRM). A camera is positioned above a movable tray, and whatever is placed on that tray is projected onto a TV or computer monitor. It changed the way I would read, write, and take tests.

Then it was time for high school. We all go through lots of changes in high school, and for me that included a new Special Ed teacher. Ms. Bruner worked with all of the Special Ed students in my high school district. Much like Mrs. Denny, she would travel to each school to work with each student. She helped me discover how to use my very thick glasses, and a magnifying glass to read schoolwork and take tests. That gave me the opportunity to read anywhere, without the need to have a PRM. She helped me learn to cook and how to navigate busy unfamiliar intersections. Ms. Bruner even taught me how to use a cane (yes, the red and white one) in case my high school eye surgeries didn’t go well.

One of my favorite things about Ms. Bruner was that she would occasionally take all of her Special Ed students on a field trip. One particular trip that stands out to me is the cross country skiing outing (Hey, at least it wasn’t downhill… or bobsledding). That field trip could have been a disaster, but Ms. Bruner selected a pretty flat and wide course, so that we beginners had a chance for success. When the path was level, the skis glided across the snow, and we just used the poles for stability. There was a lot more effort required when traveling up hill. The poles were used to pull us along, slowly making progress up the hill. My favorite was the small downhill slopes. What a feeling to just drift down that hill with the poles completely off the ground. Even though it was only for few seconds, it was… incredibly freeing.

It’s been decades since I was in school, and Special Education has changed since then. The scope of special needs has expanded, and that makes the entire environment more challenging. However, my view of Special Ed teachers is clearer than ever. They provide an experience much like that cross country skiing field trip.

Working with Mrs. Denny was a lot like going uphill on cross country skis. While we got along well, there were times when I became very frustrated or angry, not about anything she did, but because I felt like I had to work too hard just keep up, just to stay even with the other kids. Instead of lecturing me, she would simply stop working with me for a day… or a week. I had to figure it out for myself. What Mrs. Denny really taught me was… the amount of effort I needed to put in to my own work. It really didn’t matter what “the other kids” did, she helped me see that I needed to do what I needed to do to be successful.

Working with Ms. Bruner was a lot like the level sections of that cross country skiing course. She helped me to glide along a little more easily by providing different tools and skills to prepare me for a less challenging future. She even helped me get ready for the ACT and SAT exams, so I could apply to college, and even gave me a swift push in the right direction when I doubted my ability to get there.

After high school, I didn’t have a Special Ed teacher – I didn’t need one. Mrs. Denny and Ms. Bruner spent all those years, all that effort, getting me ready to lift those poles. Much like the downhill sections of that cross country skiing course, my sense of freedom and independence is both thrilling and scary all at the same time. It’s scary, thinking about the fact that I might fall. At other times, I have fallen, and while it hurts, I get up, dust myself off, and hold those poles for stability. The freedom to use the tools and techniques these Special Educators have taught me has helped me to navigate a family, a career, and a social life. What makes Special Education teachers so special? While they work so hard on helping in the here and now, the impact of their efforts goes far beyond the classroom, and for that I am very thankful.

Last week, I had the pleasure of attending an elementary school district employee awards ceremony. My wife was receiving her 10 year plaque. She sat with the other recipients in their main floor section, and I sat with the other guests up in the bleachers. During the ceremony, a team of Special Education teachers won an award for excellence in their work. The best part was that they were nominated for it by their peers, the other teachers at their school.

As I listened to the administrator describe that team’s efforts, I was moved – so moved in fact, that I’ve been inspired to write a blog about my own experiences with special education. However, I’ve also realized that there is too much to say in one blog. As a result, I have created a four-part blog called “The SPECIAL … Series”.

This is the first of 4 blogs, each exploring a different element of Special Education.

Part 1: The SPECIAL Bus

When my twin brother and I started school, he walked with our older sister 2 blocks to the elementary school in our neighborhood. I was bussed to a school in a neighboring town. It wasn’t just any bus, no – this was what you might call a “special bus”. Who’s kidding who? That’s what people called it back then, and probably still do today. For all practical purposes, that’s what it is. It’s a bus that carries students with special needs to and from school.

I still remember some of the people who rode the bus with me back then. I may not remember all of their names, but I sure do remember the experience. I rode that bus for two school years – kindergarten and first grade, yet everyone on board left a lasting impression. One student named Bob was probably in 5th grade when I started riding the bus. He seemed so confident, so comfortable, yet he was completely blind. He got on that bus every day with his white and red cane, made his way to his favorite seat, and greeted everyone else on the bus with a hearty “Good Morning”.

Fast forward 45 years. My mom was talking to a woman on her bowling league in Sun City, Arizona, and they shared stories of their sons who are ironically both visually impaired. It turns out that we both had the same special education teacher back in Illinois. Through their conversation, it was discovered that my mom was talking to Bob’s mom. How cool is that!?

They exchanged contact information, and since their conversation, Bob and I have reconnected. While we’ve not seen each other in 45 years (OK, I’ll wait… get the jokes out of your system), we have enjoyed catching up over the phone. To this day Bob maintains a positive attitude. Does he ever have a bad day? Sure, we all do. Does he ever get frustrated? Yeah, everyone does. We each have our own unique challenges, but we find ways to navigate them. For example, though Bob is completely blind, technology has come a long way, so even his computer is easily accessible.

I sat in the top row of the bleachers at my wife’s award ceremony, and I have technology to thank for that. In the past, I’ve used binoculars, but that would look strange in a school gym. I could do that at a football stadium, but not the school gym. I’ve used a monocular, but then I look like I’m at the opera, out of place in the school gym. However, this time I had my video camera with its little display screen. I was going to record the entire ceremony when I realized… I don’t need to. I just need to look like I am. That way, I could zoom in on the speakers and recipients and see all the festivities like everyone else… without looking out of place.

I know I shouldn’t worry about looking out of place, and I really don’t. What bothers me is how some people treat anyone with special needs like they’re… stupid. I may not see well, but you don’t need talk louder or more slowly – I’m visually impaired, not hearing impaired. In my role as a corporate trainer, I’ve even had a participant who walked into the classroom while I was setting up my laptop. She saw me looking very closely at my monitor, and immediately viewed me as “unprofessional because he’s handicapped”.

That kind of attitude is unacceptable! Back when Barb and I had our first apartment in the suburbs of Chicago, I rode a full-sized beige school bus operated by PACE from where we lived to and from the train station each day. I’d been riding the bus for a couple of years, and got along well with the other passengers. One afternoon, an unsuspecting man in a business suit carrying a briefcase approached the door of the bus. I typically sat in the front seat on the door side, so I could more easily notice when we were approaching my stop. This stranger gently pokes his head in and hesitantly asks the driver, “Is this a … special bus?”

I was in a jovial mood that afternoon, so I immediately replied, with a lisp for effect, “It thurtanly iz. Climb aboard – there’z plenty of room for all!” Everyone on the bus laughed, and then the driver informed the business man of which PACE route we were. I felt badly for my behavior later. I mean, the bus did look different, so I guess I could understand the confused commuter’s question.

Isn’t that how society is though? If someone looks different, or speaks differently, or believes different things, or has some kind of physical challenge, some people just don’t know how to treat them. That perception becomes its own limitation. When I was a kid headed to grade school on that “special bus”, do you know who really impacted me the most? It wasn’t any of the other kids, it was the driver. No matter how she had to assist any one of us on that bus, she always treated us with respect. To this day, when people ask me how to treat a person with special needs, my reply is simple – like a person.

When I was in 7th grade, I joined the cross country team at Cooper Junior High School. While there were 15 of us on the team, only the top 7 runners were given the privilege of wearing “spikes” during our meets. These were running shoes with small spikes under the bottoms of the souls for better traction on grass. Before the first meet, we had a team race to determine the order of running strength among our members. I held the distinction of finishing 15th – no “spikes” for me.

During our first meet I ran my little seventh grade tail off, but it just wasn’t enough to win, or place in the top seven from our team, or cross the finish line before any runner from any of the three schools at the meet. I was the last runner to cross the finish line from all 3 schools combined. I didn’t mind being last. I was more upset that I wouldn’t get to wear “spikes” next time either. Our coach made a rule that the top seven finishers from our team during each meet would get to wear “spikes” during the next meet.

After our first meet, I was still ranked 15th on our team. I didn’t need to be first, but I didn’t want to be last either. I just wanted the chance to wear “spikes” for one meet. At our second meet, I made it my goal to finish ahead of at least one of my team mates, and I did. As the season went on, I was dedicated to practice, and gave my all during the meets. I slowly climbed up from the 15th ranked runner all the way to 9th. Unfortunately, we only had one more meet.

As I competed in that last meet, I had two options. My first option was to settle for where I was because I wasn’t going to get to wear “spikes” anyway as this was our last meet. My second option was to run like there would be another meet, and I might have the chance to finally wear “spikes”. I may not always win, and as a runner, I never had, so giving up would have been easier. Instead, I competed in an effort to wear those “spikes”. As the race wore on, I was holding on the best I could. My plan was, if I could see another runner from my team in front of me, I was going to pass them one runner at a time. I had passed lots of my teammates, and runners from the other teams too. I had tried to keep count off my team mates, and in the last 1/4 mile I was 8th on my team. I looked for one more gold jersey, and I finally saw it. I started running as fast as my remaining energy would allow. As we were approaching the Chute (two sets of flag filled ropes that funneled the runners into the home stretch), I burst past one more gold jersey and completed the race as the 7th place runner from our school.

I was thrilled! If we had another meet, I’d finally get to wear those “spikes”. I was also kind of bummed that no one else on my team seemed to really care. After all, we had just completed the last race of the season. No more “spikes”, no more meets, and no more practices. We would enjoy the fall sports banquet, and that would close the door on Cross Country season. My family joined me at the banquet. We had dinner and watched as the top athletes received their awards for outstanding performance, fastest mile, and team captain. I, along with every other first-time athlete, received a letter, a gold “C” on which to place pins for participation in future school activities. Some 8th graders received pins for their participation because they already had a “Letter” from participation in another school sport or activity.

As the last award was being brought to the podium, the coach explained that this was a unique award. It was going to one member of the cross the country team who demonstrated outstanding effort and reminded this team to celebrate victory and grow in defeat. Over the microphone, I heard the coach say, “The award for INSPIRATION goes to…” Then he said my name.

As I walked up to accept my award, all kinds of thoughts were running through my mind. I thought nobody really cared, that no one even noticed, but I was wrong. To this day, I have that trophy on my dresser. There is a gold runner on a wood base. The gold plate on the front simply says “INSPIRATION”. While junior high was decades ago, I keep that trophy dust-free and displayed because, for me, it’s not a childhood memory. Rather, it’s a reminder that people are watching me, even when I don’t realize it. The choices and decisions I make, the way I treat my family and friends, my business behavior, and even how I interact with people I’ve never met before.

Strength isn’t about the physical ability to hoist a trophy over your head in victory. Instead, true strength is about character. Abraham Lincoln said, “Character is like a tree, and reputation like a shadow. The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing”.

How real are you? I’m not suggesting we value ourselves by what others think of us as that shadow will change over time, I have learned that maintaining one’s character even during difficult or challenging times helps each of us to become who we really are. You may not feel like it sometimes, but we each have opportunities to inspire other people. It’s OK to celebrate when things go well, that doesn’t make you arrogant. It’s also fine to be disappointed when things don’t go well, that doesn’t make you a sore loser. The way we handle life’s successes and challenges requires great strength… of character.

Growing up, I never played contact sports, unless you count being beat up by the bullies after school. I hoped it would stop by the time I got to High School, but it didn’t. It actually got worse because the bullying happened before, during, and after school. I think some of those guys lettered in… bullying me. Maybe college would be better, and it was, after my first semester.

My roommate freshman year was a guy I met at orientation. He seemed like a nice guy, until you take him away from his mother, and add a bunch of other guys who are experiencing all kinds of freedom for the first time. Add to that the bully down the hall, let’s call him Brad (because I went to Bradley University), and my first semester went from Brad to worse in a hurry. They’d hide my shoes, take my food, and verbally harass me on a regular basis. I actually participated in the very first “Ice Bucket Challenge” when Brad took a 50 gallon restroom garbage can filled with ice, and poured it over me from the next stall while I was in the shower.

All of this abuse continued for almost an entire semester. The straw that broke the camel’s back (ok, it didn’t break the camel’s back. It actually broke my collar bone, fractured my shoulder blade, and dislocated my shoulder) was about a week before finals. I had returned from being out with some friends, and a bunch of guys from my floor were socializing in the room next door with the door wide open. I leaned in just to say hi. The shirt I was wearing had two buzzards on it, and one is saying to the other, “Patience my butt (edited to be family friendly), I’m going to kill something – The Boss”.

No, this was not a gift from Bruce Springsteen. It was actually an old shirt that my Dad didn’t wear anymore, so he gave it to me. I’m sharing the following conversation to show you how stupidly out of hand things can get in a very short time.

BRAD: “Hey, Jim. You think you’re all cool wearing that shirt?” (laughing) “The Boss – my butt!” (again edited to be family friendly)

ME: “Well, at least I don’t think I’m the Tae Kwon Do king.”

Seriously, that’s exactly what I said. Brad, my roommate, and some other guys on our floor were taking a weekly Tae Kwon Do class, and constantly bragging about what they could do. On that particular evening, Brad had … bratttude – that’s Brad with some freedom induced attitude. After my comment, I silently walked away. As I’m putting my key in my door, Brad comes up behind me, grabs me, picks me up, and throws me against the brick wall across from my door. As I’m heading for the wall, I turn as not to hit it face first (hey, I may face plant on the pavement, but not brick walls… see blogs 2 and 3 of this series for those references). Instead, I hit it with my left shoulder.

As I slid painfully to a sitting position against the wall, Brad walked away cursing and colorfully explaining what he thought of me. The other guys … just laughed. To this day, I am thankful for two guys on that dorm floor who kept kind of quiet, but always treated me well. Nick and Mike – and to this day, they are the only two people from college that I stayed friends with all four years, and still talk to today.

Hearing the commotion, Nick came down the hall. Seeing me on the floor, he asked about what happened and how I was feeling. Unable to move my left arm, he offered to drive me to the hospital. He spent hours there with me, and after exams and bandaging, we headed back to campus. The next day, I had a meeting with the Assistant Dean of Students to report what had happened. He made sure I was moved to a different floor, and then he presented me with two options:
1=Have Brad permanently expelled.
OR
2=Issue a restraining order against Brad, and if it were violated, he would be permanently expelled.

Option 1 seemed a little too drastic, and I didn’t want to ruin his college career over one bad decision. Besides if one comment made him that violently angry, how would he handle being expelled? After careful consideration, I selected option 2. That was really the safer option for me because he couldn’t bother me anymore, at least not for the remainder of our four years at college.

Fast forward to second semester senior year. I was walking through the social center, and I see Brad walking up to me. He stops in front of me, and extends his hand to shake mine. As I hesitantly extend my hand he says, “Jim, I just want to thank you for not having me expelled freshman year. I’ve done pretty well. I have a good job lined up, and … well… thanks for what you did”.

I shook his hand, told him I was happy for him, and walked away. What I didn’t tell him was that I was thankful for what he did. Not necessarily for the trip to the hospital, but for helping me to learn Tae Kwon Do. During freshman year, after my shoulder healed, I enrolled in that Tae Kwon Do class because I wanted to learn to defend myself with something other than my mouth – because that hadn’t worked out so well over the years. I’ve only had to use what I’ve learned twice during college, and not again since. Both times I walked away unharmed.

When I think of control, I think of the martial arts. There is such a balance between power and restraint when practicing each technique. Have you heard the term “pulling punches”? This is where you exert all of your energy to throw the punch, yet you stop just short of your target or short enough to only tap it.

In life, we need to balance our communication in the same way. Our words have power, yet we must use them with restraint. While we always want to be completely honest, sometimes we need to do it gently. There will be times when someone is rude to you, or doesn’t treat you well. In those moments, I try to act rather than to react. In other words, I strive to make a decision about how to handle a situation with self-control, rather than allowing myself to get out of control. I’m working on it, but I’m not sure any of us ever masters the art of communication.

Tae Kwon Do translates to “The way of the hand and foot”. I need to make sure I use enough self-control to put my HAND over my mouth – before I put my FOOT in it. While that’s not the exact intent of the translation, it works for me. Sometimes we need to “pull” our verbal punches. We can be honest without being rude. How are you doing with your verbal communication? Grasshopper, maybe it’s time to balance your verbal control through my interpretation of Tae Kwon Do.

The Flying Wallendas display their confidence by not using a net. While that may seem a bit extreme, they train their entire lives to be ready for those key moments. I’m not suggesting you walk through life taking unnecessary risks, but building self confidence is really a balancing act between preparation and risk.

Most kids get comfortable enough on a bicycle to eventually ride no-handed. Even I did that. Hey, I was on the back of a tandem bike. My handle bars didn’t even move. It was my job to pedal. I had to trust my twin brother John, or anyone else who was on the front seat, to get us where we needed to go. I know there were times when John lifted his feet… just to drop a subtle hint that life wasn’t going to let me coast as a passenger. That’s one thing I love about a bike ride. It’s a lot of work getting up those hills, but the occasional coast – that’s just good fun.

Of course, sitting on the back of that tandem bike wasn’t as much fun as driving up front. I only drove that bike a few times. Once while driving with a brave friend on the back, we were having a conversation. Not thinking, I turned to say something and the next thing I knew – a parked car jumped out in front of us. Luckily there was no damage to the car, the bike, or either of us. We traded places and continued… laughing all the way.

After that, I was told not to ride on the front of that bike. Well, in my rule following, yet adventurously creative, mind, I found a way to obey that rule while still enjoying a bike ride (kids, please don’t try this at home). I leaned over from the back seat and grabbed the handle bars. I started to pedal from the back and steer with no one on the front seat. I rode around the court we lived in, and then I turned onto the side street. I got to that corner and turned around. As I was approaching the court, I only had one more house to pass… Whitey’s house. He was sitting on his front porch just watching me. Of course, I didn’t see him, but boy did I hear him.

WHITEY: (yelling) “Jimmy! Does your Dad know how you’re riding that bike!?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I was too busy concentrating on steering because my crazy neighbor just scared the crap out of me. All I could think was, “Don’t crash” and “My Dad’s gonna clobber me” and “Hmm, in that case, maybe I should crash”. I began to weave, feverishly trying to keep my composure, and when I had safely arrived in my own driveway, I decided not to ride like that anymore.

Fast forward about 20 years. My wife Barb and I bought mountain bikes for each other as a one year anniversary gift. We had a great time going for bike rides. A few years later, shortly after our daughter Courtney was born, we bought a baby seat that attaches to the back of a bike. Barb suggested putting it on my bike. She was confident that I’d be OK, and more importantly that Courtney (too young to protest) would be fine too. Having ridden for years, I too had grown in my self confidence to the point where I could carry my precious little passenger.

Once we moved to Arizona, both our kids eventually learned to ride bikes too. We live across from a court, so they had a safe place to practice and build their self confidence. Barb and I enjoyed watching them ride, and it inspired us to get our own bikes again and ride with our kids. On a nice Arizona January day we went for a family bike ride. It was such a beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon, I even brought the dog.

Have you ever noticed that sometimes overconfidence is a dangerous thing? I’m painfully reminded of that every time I think back on that January bike ride. Since I could ride one handed, I volunteered to hold the dog’s leash (OK kids, here’s another one – please don’t try this at home). I held the leash as he ran beside me. We had done this before, and he would just bolt down the sidewalk next to me as I rode in the street.

To this day, I’m not sure why, but for some reason he darted in front of me, so I applied the brakes – or should I say… the front brake (note to self – when riding one-handed keep the back break hand on the handle bars). At that moment, I became a Flying Leligdon! In one not at all graceful move, I let go of the leash, flew over the handle bars, and did my best Evel Knievel impression. Every body part on my right side hit the pavement (and I’ve had pavement plant experience… see part 2 of this blog). To this day I thank God that when I landed I didn’t hit my head because, unlike my bus jumping buddy, I was not wearing a helmet. Oh, and my dog, like a ninja he very wisely moved out of the way so I wouldn’t land on him. Then he sat by me waiting for Barb and the kids to come back.

As a result of that January bike ride, I could have decided to stop riding my bike (or at least to learn how to stop WHILE riding my bike). I took a look at how to be better prepared before I rode again. I always wear a helmet – It’s OK to be safe. I’ve had people say that a grown man doesn’t need a bike helmet because it looks stupid – Really? It looks better than bashing my head on the pavement. I leave the dog at home because… dogs go for walks not bike rides. I even go for short rides in the neighborhood by myself to further build my confidence.

Remember my rule following, yet adventurously creative, mind? One day I rode to the Pharmacy Drive-thru at Walgreen’s just because I could, and it was fun being in line with the cars. Hey, it’s a drive-thru, and it doesn’t specify what I need to be driving.

Tennis pro Arthur Ashe said, “One important key to success is self confidence. An important key to self confidence is preparation”. What about you? In your own life, what’s one area where you’d like to be more successful? How are you preparing your self… confidence for success?

In 6th grade, I enjoyed climbing on the playground equipment at our school just like any other kid. Back then, there were no wood chips or soft squishy surfaces to land on – just the paved playground. I was playing with some classmates, and we were swinging on the high bar, similar to the one a male gymnast uses, but this one was metal not wood. We were trying to swing back and forth until we could make one forward rotation over the bar. There I was, swinging like crazy, and when I was almost high enough to get myself over that bar, that’s when things went terribly wrong. Somehow in my excitement, I forgot one important rule – Hang On!

Hitting the ground hands and face first was something I’ll probably never forget. In an instant, a teacher was escorting me to the nurse’s office. My face and hands hurt, my nose was bloody, and my classmates were following behind us saying, “That was so cool!”

No sooner did I reach the nurses office when the ambulance arrived. My Dad worked for the fire department of the neighboring town, so the paramedics knew me, and even the hospital staff knew that I was “Jerry’s son”. I don’t remember much after we got to the hospital as things happened pretty quickly. Looking back on that day, all I know for sure is that I had broken my nose (yeah, so if you see pictures of me, I can honestly say, “Hey, the swelling just never went down.”).

The next year, in Junior High, I joined the gymnastics team. While I was a little nervous about falling again, at least they had mats. In case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t work on the high bar… because they didn’t offer that in junior high. Instead, I did pommel horse, rings, and I even discovered the trampoline. I guess you could say that I… bounced back – literally. I did OK in gymnastics. Even though I didn’t win any awards, get any 10s, or go to the Olympics, I really enjoyed that year on that team.

To this day, I still enjoy watching gymnastics because I truly appreciate the flexibility involved. For example, did you know that a balance beam is only 4 inches wide? That doesn’t leave much room for error in balance. Today the beam is covered in leather or suede to reduce slipping. With the variety of choices in elements, the gymnast is able to adjust the order and complexity of the routine to fit the situation. A slip may result in missing a jump or skipping a move.

We can learn a lot from gymnastics about flexibility. There are a few lessons that come to mind pretty quickly. First, use a mat. Start out with less risky ideas and work toward higher risk as you become more comfortable and confident. Second, have a spotter. We each need a family member or friend… to catch us… to talk about things when they don’t go well. What I appreciate most about a spotter is that they see things from a perspective you can’t at that moment because you’re in it. Third, be flexible. Not everything will go according to plan, so it’s a good idea to have some alternatives just in case.

Not driving has provided me the opportunity to work on my flexibility. Sometimes I need to be more flexible with my schedule due to the availability of transportation options. One morning, I had a 9 AM appointment, but Barb could only drive me at 7:30. Lucky for me, there was an IHOP in the same parking lot as the office for my appointment. That day, my flexibility was rewarded with pancakes. Rather than complaining about how actual plans don’t match what I’d like to have happen, I’m trying to find ways to make the best of what could otherwise be a very aggravating situation.

What about you? When you think about the different areas of your own life, are you flexible? Are you able to stretch beyond… your comfort zone, the perceived limits others place on you, and even your own self doubt? Over time, I’ve learned the difference between falling and failing. Yes, the only difference is “I”. If I decided to let that fall on the playground keep me from trying new things, I would have turned that fall into a fail, and I’d have never joined the gymnastics team. I’ve fallen many times in life, and it hurt every time (like a face plant on the playground), but each time, I’ve also learned a little bit more about success.

When I got my first pair of glasses, I was thrilled. Mom and I arrived home, and I ran up the driveway to show my Dad. On the way up the driveway, I was running so fast that I fell forward… landing on my face and breaking my new glasses. I know… not a very good example of balance.

When you hear the word “balance”, what comes to mind? Maybe it’s the financial miracle of balancing your checkbook (yes kids, some of us still use a check book). Maybe it’s the beauty and grace a gymnast displays while balancing on that tiny beam. Maybe it’s the balance a martial artist displays when securing a stable fighting stance. Maybe it’s the fearless feat of balancing on a high wire without a net (Who’s Annette?… Thanks to Mike and Eric for the inspiration for that joke). Maybe it’s the well balanced mental toughness athletes around the world display when experiencing (in my best Keith Jackson voice) “The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat”. Maybe the true power of balance is really all these things.

This is the first of 5 blogs, each exploring a different element of balance.

Part 1: STABILITY

With the Seahawks playing in Super Bowl XLIX here in Phoenix this weekend, I am reminded of an experience I had years ago while teaching a class on a little island Northwest of Seattle. We were in this beautiful ballroom on the second floor of an old wooden hotel. As I was talking to the group, I noticed that the chandeliers started swinging (With my limited vision, for something to distract me visually, it’s got to be a pretty major visual). I was so distracted by the swinging chandeliers that I stopped talking. In the silence I heard the ice in the water pitchers rattling. Then I felt the floor begin to shake beneath my feet. A participant stood up and calmly said, “Earthquake”.
Everyone got up to leave. I followed the group, and was the last one out of the room. I’ll never forget walking down that flight of stairs. Not seeing well, stairs can be kind of tricky. I use my feet to feel the edge of each stair. Not an easy task when the whole building is moving. I so badly wanted to grab the railings … but I couldn’t. The walls were moving from side to side, so I had nothing to hold on to. When I got to the parking lot, the ground was still shaking. When it stopped – I was still shaking. Yet, I was grateful that we were all safe.
This all happened in less than a minute. It’s the only time I’ve experienced an actual earthquake. Yet, we hear about them around the world. We are reminded of how real and devastating these earthquakes can be. However, I wonder about the earthquakes in our own lives. Everything is going fine, and then something happens that shakes the very foundation of what we thought was solid and stable.

When it comes to stability in our lives, most people associate it with finances. However, the term “financially stable” doesn’t mean “rich” or “wealthy”. It really means that you have a clear picture of where you are. You know where all of your money is, and what you’re doing with it. There is a balance between what you’re earning and what you’re spending. Having a budget, and sticking to it, can help a lot in this area.

Another type of stability is our work/life balance. I know, sometimes it feels like we work just to maintain our financial stability, but that can cost us in other areas. When we lived in Chicago, I commuted to my job downtown. As we moved farther away from the city to improve our financial stability, my work/life balance began to slip. I took a bus, a train, and a walk just to get to the office. My round trip commute time was 4 hours and 30 minutes each day… 5 days a week. On a typical day I left the house at 6:15 AM, and didn’t return home until 6:45 PM. When I worked overtime, I’d get home around 10:00 PM, just in time to go to sleep and do it all over again.

With my current role, I am blessed to work from home when I’m not on the road speaking or conducting a workshop. I can fly to Boston (I needed to mention the other Super Bowl XLIX team, the Patriots) to teach for a week in about the time I spent commuting for one day of work years ago. While I still struggle with being away from my family, my wife Barb is quick to point out that I’m actually home more often, I have more dinners, go to more school events, and enjoy more quality time with my family now than I ever could before.

Still another type of stability is the give and take of friendship. Due to my limited vision, I need to ask for help on a regular basis. It may be to read small print, get to an appointment, or find the right aisle in the grocery store. However, I am careful to stabilize my requests. In other words, I make sure that I do things for others as well. On that balance sheet, I try to do more for others than is done for me. For example, if someone gives me a ride to an appointment just a few miles away, I may take them to lunch. It’s less expensive than a cab, and it provides a nice opportunity to spend some time with a friend or family member.

Back in our younger days, my friend Neal had a back injury, but he needed the ceilings in his condo painted. While an unlikely candidate, I painted them for him because I could (or at least I hoped I could as I’d never done that before). Barb painted all the edges, and I rolled the rest as Neal watched in disbelief (probably laughing and thinking, “OK, I’m letting a blind guy paint my condo.”). Barb and I did a nice job, and we still enjoy painting projects in our own house now.

Of course, there is physical stability. The balance of what we eat and how we exercise. My Nonna used to say, “Jimmy, a little bit is OK. Too much – not OK.” It’s about moderation. I like to think of it as an entree vs. a buffet. First of all, the fewer calories I consume, the fewer hours I need to spend on the treadmill. Also, when I read a menu, my choices are clear. The buffet is too much guess work for me. I find myself standing there thinking, “Is that mac and cheese or scalloped potatoes? Are those green beans or asparagus?” (yeah, when I’m at a buffet, Forrest Gump’s voice is in my head because I never know what I’m going to get.)

Then there is emotional stability. This doesn’t mean we’re always happy and upbeat. It also doesn’t give us license to be bitter or play the victim when things don’t go our way. In my life, I could have let the bitterness of not seeing well destroy me, but instead I focused on what I could do rather than what I couldn’t.

Finally, there is spiritual stability – belief in God no matter the circumstances. We will celebrate the good times with praise and navigate the difficult times through prayer. When Barb and I got married; my father-in-law said something at our reception that I remember to this day. “Jim & Barb, rather than wish you well, I’ll say that I know you’ll do well because you have three things going for you: Your faith in God, your love for each other, and your sense of humor”.

There will still be those emotional earthquakes that shake each of us. However, when we strengthen every area of our stability, we can maintain our balance, even when we can’t grab a railing.