What you see, what I see

Second in an occasional series…
Who would have thought that a red bench could, or would, stir emotions? Near our home is a winding street that connects to many things in town. It passes the State College and a plethora of health and medical facilities. Along the street is a recreational trail. Enter the red bench. The afternoon sun was casting long shadows as we drove by. One lone runner captured my attention. She appeared to be maybe twenty something, hair pulled back, foot on the bench tying her shoe. 

Would you have even thought twice about it? What you probably would have seen is just as I described.  I saw energy and invigoration. I saw a time and way to clear my thoughts. I saw pure, simple fun. I saw something that I desperately wanted, and still want, to do – and can’t.

People are often amazed at what I can do. They often see a wheelchair or a pair of crutches and expect the least of the user. Sometimes I’m amazed at what I do, and then I see reality. I see the red bench almost every day. Every time I think how much I’d like to run that trail. We never pass by without me glancing toward it and wishing. 

It is time for me to take that emotion and channel it toward something rewarding. Whether it’s exercising as I’m able, learning Yoga, or letting my love of photography re-kindle despite the limitations that have frustrated me, it’s time to stop at the red bench, tie my shoe, and finish my run. Please join me!

Thank you for stopping by and reading this. I’d love to hear your comments.


6 thoughts on “What you see, what I see

  1. From experience:

    “Don’t tell me what you can’t do. Show me what you can do.”

    Jason Pisano had CP and…ran. It is one of the more astounding legacies he left behind. He ran in his chair with one foot, his chair was part of him and he ran. We all have talents, things that make us unique.

    “Find in your own will a way.”

    I never would have know all of these quoted words had life gone down a gentler path. We we travel the path not taken. Make it all the difference my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi George, this post was so touching and I could relate to what you’ve said here. We all have those days where we yearn for what was and I’ve learned to allow myself to ponder and then when the time is right I move forward yet again. I suppose we all have our form of red bench.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, Steph. Your comments mean a lot to me. I think your comment here is what I was trying to say.
      I’ve re-written that so many times I finally threw it all out and just wrote. Thank you for finishing it so well.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Can you go down that trail in your wheelchair? I get the point of what you are saying, but maybe going down the trail in your chair will give you a greater opportunity to enjoy the sights along the trail, rather than running by and missing them. Maybe you are supposed to see it from that vantage point! I say ride the trail!! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Hi Deb. No trail. Hill. That particular trail is used by runners, whilst most here are shared by bikes and runners. What makes it so prohibitive for me is that it starts and ends on high ground but takes a gently curving, very steep trek down in the middle.
    You’ve given me the topic of what might become an entry later this summer, Lake County’s inviting and forbidding hills. Thanks.


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