I can’t dwell on regret or the rough water behind me, just revel that I survived it. Nor can I focus on my pride or fear the uncertain water ahead. Railing against the rocks and drowning just wastes energy. There’s nothing I can do about it, and there is a certain unexpected peace in embracing powerlessness and the unknown. I control what I can, strive for the best, and adapt to the rest.
At times, I am inspired by Philippe Petit, the French artist who famously high-wire walked between the two towers of the 110-story World Trade Center. With no net and nothing more than a one-inch steel wire and a balance pole to stop him from plummeting to the concrete 1,400 below him, Petit traversed the ¼ mile distance between the towers a remarkable eight times. He stopped to peer across the abyss to the ground, spectators below, and the birds who soared alongside him. In other moments, he playfully knelt, laid down, ran, and bounced on the wire, his feet often losing contact with the thin steel cable.
Unlike Petit, I did not willingly step out across the void and onto the high wire. I woke up, found myself here, and am making the best of the experience. Conventional medical treatments for my condition can be dangerous. After years of trying, I have little to show for the risks taken. Still, venturing into the wilderness of promising but unproven therapies is a calculated gamble. I appreciate his bold step off a relatively safe skyscraper roof.
Like Petit, I don’t want to die. Significant research, discipline, and help enable my “walk.” There may also be an element of insanity, but now that I’m here, I’ve found unique perspective, beauty, and grace to be had. As I look around, ahead, and down, I see what I love, what I hope to achieve, and what’s at stake. I am intentional about outcomes I can reach and those that can’t. I want to cross the chasm successfully. I can’t do this if I am paralyzed with fear and resist the volatility and uncertainty of my journey. At times, I may walk in pain or pull myself along by my fingernails. I may walk alone, but that doesn’t mean I’ve been abandoned. Sometimes I’m the only one who can step to something better.
