Brooklyn Woman

A Publication of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle

OCT. 3, 2003 issue

The World According To Me

By Ryn Gargulinski

NOT A WALK IN THE PARK

Did you ever wake up one fine day only to find that you could not walk? When that happens, it ceases being a fine day. It also wrecks havoc on your immediate first-thing trip to the bathroom. Although you make it to the john in time, you end up first falling head first into the pile of unfolded (but clean!) clothes on the side of your bed. And then you have to crawl. This happened to me last Friday and it scared the heck out of me.

Unfortunately, I cannot say it was something I have never known before. At the age of about nine, a misguided airborne somersault against my mother’s wishes caused me temporary paralysis when I landed squarely on my neck bone.  Roughly six years ago, after a stupidly “heroic” (and drunken) attempt to stay atop an inner tube tethered to the back of a speedboat going 90, I horridly sprained my foot. This incident required a trip to the emergency room and crutches for about three weeks, an epidemic during which became that proverbial bull in a china shop. This was that same foot that, upon speculation, I realized I had highly abused the day before.

Now I had hell to pay. After calling in injured to work and phoning one of my friends to see if she could take me for X-rays, I realized how bad this sucks. It also dawned on me how much we take for granted on a daily basis – like this “teeny tiny” gift that we call walking. I then slithered into a pasty pile of self-pity as I parked myself on the couch inhaling most of the fruit in my fridge.

About half-way through the day (three peaches, a couple apples, and a five pounds of grapes later), self-pity turned boring and cruel and I realized it did no earthly good. Even without my ability to jaunt off to the park, go to the gym, or even walk to the bathroom, there was so much to be grateful for. Like Extra-Strength Tylenol, the walking stick I used on Halloween when I dressed up as “Clockwork Orange,” and my computer chair with wheels. To be sure, this homebound chair-bound experiment forced me into updating my website, finalizing a few art projects I had kicking around the living room and chatting with some friends who I am frequently too busy running around to acknowledge. Even in the worst of circumstances, some things are apt to be good. It all depends on your frame of mind.

It also put a bold orange highlighter to the zillions of things we take for granted every day. Like seeing sunsets, tasting ginger or smell. Or any of the five senses. Like our health or our jobs. Or our strength to live through excruciatingly painful situations – like being stalked by an ex -- without slitting our wrists or blowing our heads off. We are blessed with a host of abilities that only we possess and may never even realize.

Think, for a moment, of the countless abilities of the human hand. This is a fun project, inspired by something I heard this morning from a very wise friend of mine. This simple appendage can do so very much. Like unclog a sink. Hitchhike to Dallas. Caress a tarantula. How else could we play “Paper, Rock, Scissors” or effectively use “The Clapper?” I even wrote a poem about 22 of its functions.

Think, for another moment, if every ability you have – in your gorgeous hand and otherwise – were suddenly taken away. Well, chances are you would not even realize it since your power to know you exist or even who you are would also fall by the wayside. But think of the tons of things you can do, and the one that is most important to you…then imagine that very thing going out the window. “We never know a good thing until it’s gone” a tired-but-true adage and lyrics to a catchy reggae song reminds us. Let us instead try to know the good things while they stick around – not the things we think we should have or perhaps certain things we are unable to do. And even if we can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, let us be grateful that we can walk.