For me, the worst part of almost any ’serious trauma’ story is the sad waste of human potential: the amazingly-brilliant, rich person for whom years of their life – if not most (or worse, all…) of their life after trauma is derailed and, essentially, ‘wasted’.
Sure, all life is worthwhile and serves a purpose. But… When I see the gifts and potential of each ‘grad’ which can no longer be fulfilled, I’m aware of a dull ache deep in my gut.
My greatest hope? That one of these days the world will wake up. Every single one of us. That we will take matters into our own hands. Each and every one of us. That we will curb capitalism – before it kills democracy completely. That we will insist on decent healthcare for everyone, all over the world. That we will refuse to sanction war, violence, hateful behaviour… That we will insist on sharing our wealth with those temporarily unable to contribute mere $$ and acknowledge the many other way they enrich our world.
I am indescribably sad and sick to my stomach when I look just at the human waste in my own small circle of friends: a beautiful, strong, moral artist who now spends all of her precious energy ’surviving’, much less painting and travelling and creating businesses; a talented writer unable to find someone willing to ‘give him a chance’ to get back up on the horse of life; A handsome, fit young man who, in the blink of an eye, lost all social and economic ability and can’t find a partner or a job; a vibrant martial artist and young father, in the prime of his life, cut down to a wheelchair, shut out of his entire life; a young woman who has refused to loosen her iron grip on her career and who just manages to hang on by the skin of her teeth but for whom the physical ability to fulfill her dreams and explore all the facets of what makes her ‘her’ is missing.
I could go on. The two biggest hurdles are aloneness – the lack of true empathy and compassion in our society. In part due to the near-impossibility for even the healthy and able-bodied to survive financially today. And the lack of income. Being sick, affording expensive but absolutely crucial and life-saving medication, finding new therapies, paying for an assistant so that we can continue to really ‘live’ – all of this costs money. At the very time when we are unable to earn.
My dream? To build a resort.
It would look no different to a holiday resort – in an affordable part of the world. For a group of at least a dozen disabled people to live there with their helpers. To bring the knowledge of alternative therapies – and real hope – together and share them with those plunged into sudden disability. To bring assistants, at least one for each disabled person – kind, compassionate people who cannot afford to live in their own homelands. To live and to love together while slowly regaining our health by the pool or walking by the ocean. And to wait…
I believe that in no time at all we would be healed. We would again produce art, books and who knows what other products and services – that would sustain and grow our new community.
We would shake off the stigma of ‘being disabled’. We would laugh; wear bright colours; throw out all our medical-looking walkers, wheelchairs and ’sensible’ (boring) shoes. New life would be kindled. An example of true compassionate, loving life.
If you are a potential financial backer, please contact me…
I’m serious.