Half Full, Half Empty

For the longest time I saw the glass as half full, knowing that I could fill it again.  That there would always be capacity to improve, grow, fill.

Until my well of energy and wellness started to run dry.

The glass half full or empty is a powerful image, but it doesn't address the population who is struggling just to make it through the day because of a chronic (or acute) health issue, or life circumstances that are toxic. 

Those people who declare that if your glass is half empty, find a smaller glass and use that instead just don't get it.  Any of it.

It's like white folk who tell people of colour that they just need to get an education, get a better job, do better, assimilate better.  Then when they do get the education, get a better job, tell them 'not like that'.

White privilege is about the colour of your skin not preventing you from getting that education, finding that better job.  Not making your life difficult *because* of that colour.

It's like able bodied people telling people with physical challenges that they are worth less.  A cartoon on Facebook this morning kind of summed that up so well.  A man cleaning the steps off, telling the person in the wheelchair to wait until the steps were cleared for all the mobile people and the person in the wheelchair pointing out that clearing the ramp first meant *everyone* could access the building, not just the people who could use the stairs.

Rick Hansen (man in motion) has done more to raise awareness of accessibility in Canada - and around the world - than any other person I can think of.  But we can do better.

As I age, I am finding myself more and more compromised in terms of mobility.  As I deal with chronic pain and a body that seems determined to slow me down, regardless of how I feel about that, I become more aware of the fact that no matter how much I yank on my bootstraps, I cannot do certain things any more.

While I remain positive in my attitude, I have to admit that my well is running dry.  That glass?  I cannot refill it.  Switching to a smaller glass is to acknowledge that my activity horizons are smaller.  It becomes more and more difficult to do the things I used to do.  I have already curtailed my travel.  I am working on curtailing my expectations for how productive I can be.

So yes.  I can pour what I have left in that large glass into a smaller glass and remain grateful for what I still have. 

Doesn't mean I don't - at times - feel sad for what I used to be able to do.  And now cannot.