Permission Slip

It’s so easy for me to get lazy.

The handles at the back of my chair practically scream, “help the helpless!”

I noticed a little while ago, which should have sparked immediate change but that’s not how it works with me, that I’ve been giving in to the temptation to be pushed rather than to push myself.

In the morning, on the way to work, the hallway trek to the elevator seems like such a long push, oddly the same hallway, on the way back from work, seems longer.

And it’s carpeted. And I’m tired. And, let’s not forget, I’ve got these amazing handles behind me.

So, slowly, over time.

I’ve been pushed up and down those hallways more and more.

And it’s not just those hallways.

Like I said, I noticed a while ago, but noticing doesn’t always lead to action. It lead to me thinking, “How interesting. I should blog about that.”

But I didn’t blog about it.

Or do anything else.

Until Sunday, I was using my power chair and I had to reach out and lift something. It was something that I have carried for a long time, but I realized that it’s heavy.

Really heavy. I hadn’t ever thought of it as heavy before.

Then, wham, I realized that my arms simply don’t have to power that they had when I was determined to push myself in my own chair.

My arms were losing power and strength.

That was it.

I’m pushing myself again.

It’s only been a couple of days. But I am firm in my conviction. I have always said, about others touching my chair, that those handles aren’t permission.

Well, they aren’t permission for me either.