I lost my voice the last couple of days, which is an awkward situation for an attorney – especially when on the road on business. It's like a rattlesnake without his rattle, a vulture without his bald head, or a weasel without his teeth. It is an interesting situation to go through. I went through a similar such experience at age twenty-four, when I lost my health for about two years. I learned things that I couldn't learn any other way (e.g., how our physicality is all balled up in who we are, and how we can learn to find other ways to express and project ourselves). In such situations, we either give in to despair or we discover new joys and different interests. Nevertheless, the pain of loss endures–that longing for what we had and who we were.
I learned how people can be so irrationally cruel and others can be abundantly kind. A stewardess was instantly upset when she couldn't understand my beverage request. A waiter was noticeably disturbed when I tried to order. (I have an important hearing this coming Tuesday and it will be interesting to see how it will go with the judge if I can't speak.)
The most important thing I learned is that there are many who don't recover after two years, like I did, or who don't regain their voice after the illness has passed. These people experience the irrationality of others and the pain of loss for far too many days of their lives.
Don't be the one who takes offense at their inability to be "whole." Be the compassionate one who neither condescends nor becomes impatient, but who engages, extends a hand of fellowship, and accepts.
Loren M. Lambert © February 9, 2013
I learned how people can be so irrationally cruel and others can be abundantly kind. A stewardess was instantly upset when she couldn't understand my beverage request. A waiter was noticeably disturbed when I tried to order. (I have an important hearing this coming Tuesday and it will be interesting to see how it will go with the judge if I can't speak.)
The most important thing I learned is that there are many who don't recover after two years, like I did, or who don't regain their voice after the illness has passed. These people experience the irrationality of others and the pain of loss for far too many days of their lives.
Don't be the one who takes offense at their inability to be "whole." Be the compassionate one who neither condescends nor becomes impatient, but who engages, extends a hand of fellowship, and accepts.
Loren M. Lambert © February 9, 2013
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