Author: Daniela Ginta Page 83 of 99

I wear a yellow Livestrong bracelet. I am not a cancer survivor but I have close ones who are or are still fighting this terrible disease. It is a message I choose to carry because of them . Livestrong is Lance Armstrong’s foundation. I read two of Lance Armstrong’s books and I admire him. That’s right. The man who is facing a serious barrage of questions and federal inquiries about possible doping during the Tour de France competitions. Also, a bunch of questions about his foundation: It is a cancer-related foundation, but is it contributing to cancer research or is merely another way of promoting the man who has already made a big name for himself. I am personally getting tired of seeing this. I have been in a couple of races involving cycling a few times, and I take my bike out for rides in both hot and cold weather, windy or sleety or all of the above. I rode uphill and felt that my legs will fall off. Luckily they didn’t but I gained a whole different perspective on people who do it at a professional level and people who ride for various causes, personal and otherwise. It’s tough TOUGH. And I humbly admit to barely scratching the surface myself.

All I can say about this combined bashing is this. About the cycling/doping part: What he did is outstanding. Whether he did or did not use performance-enhancing drugs makes no difference in how I see him. He inspired me and he inspired many others, I am sure, but in the the interest of keeping with the title of my post I’ll just say me for now. He did and I am thankful for that.

As for the alleged self-promotion through Livestrong, here’s what I think. The man beat cancer. Not only that, he chose to share his experience by writing about it and then he put together a foundation that helps and supports people with cancer. I keep reading stories of people who were so inspired by Lance Armstrong that they not only beat cancer but also participated in various races afterwards. The naysayers among you will say, well, maybe there’s lots of others who did that too and they have no idea what Livestrong is. Sure there are. I hope there’s lots of them. But that’s beside the point I am trying to make. My point is this: If Lance Armstrong helped at least one person beat cancer by inspiring them with his example and through his foundation, then I cannot fault the man for being who he is, the face behind the foundation. A typical case of one hand washes the other or rather one hand helps the other? Even so. The world would be a better place if more of us would so the same, reaching out in ways that inspire others to do something good for themselves and pay it forward. Whatever happens as a collateral effect of that, well, I’d say we’re missing the goodness if we choose to focus too much on it.

Why do we feel the need to take these people down? Envy? Perhaps. No one is perfect and yet we want them to be. Even then, having no stones to throw, someone will find a pebble or two to hurl at them. But why not celebrate and appreciate the goodness people bring instead of trying to kick them in the shins? I see a lot of indifference around me on a regular basis. I say it without any false pretenses that I am never indifferent. I strive not to be but being human comes with faults. If someone chooses to be less indifferent and makes a dent that means the world to at least one person I’d say we should let them live. Call me biased, I might as well be. But I choose to stick with the bright side in this case because it really did make some areas of my life brighter.

Bottom line? I’ll keep wearing my yellow bracelet and as soon as I’m cast-free I’ll celebrate with a bike ride. If the hill proves too steep, one of the things I’ll peek at for some much needed wind at my back  will be that yellow LIVESTRONG strip. So there.

…any remarkable people? Not my intention to play mind games here at all but my playing with words might be interpreted as such. Hence my disclaimer but do I need one? By remarkable I mean people who make your world as warm as a needed hug. Remarkable not because the society credited them as such , although that is a good thing but for now beyond the purpose of this writing, but because to you they mean a lot. Because they are there when you need them, because they share love and friendship with you, because they are brave when life takes them for a tumble and they inspire you to reach deeper and be braver yourself, because they are good and giving and they inspire you to give too. I am talking about remarkable people who are remarkable because they let you sit in whatever corner of their kitchen you choose with a cup of warm coffee or tea in your hands and they don’t ask questions but let you unwrap your heart like you would a wounded bird you found by the side of the road. You must know the feeling, and you must agree that there are a few things that come close to knowing that someone is there when you need them. Remarkable deed, no?

Back to my query. Do you know remarkable people? Because my thought of the day is this: If you do, let them know they’re remarkable.
You’ll say they know that already. I think some do, and some don’t. Either way, let them know. Send a note, be present to acknowledge them and their presence in your life. Tell people you care about that you do, and if words are behaving like stubborn donkeys and won’t come out, think of other ways to do it. On a side note, I do believe that even the most stubborn donkey will yield to a well chosen carrot, but that’s my way of seeing the world and I credit my mom who always said “You can do it if you put your mind to it.” Yes, she was remarkable. I wish I told her that enough times, I know I didn’t but I hope she knew. Regrets of this kind groom us into more thoughtful people I guess, if we’re willing, that is.

Here’s my challenge for you: Don’t wait. Show your those remarkable people in your life their worthiness, thank them for being who they are. Thank them for being there. And be there for them too. The one caveat? Mean it. Only do it if you mean it. It was always bothersome to me and yes, confusing too, when people used big words that mean nothing in the end or laid out foundations that proved to be fluff. We all do it I guess. And we all accept it without knowing. There must be a time when that two-way nonsense stops though. Mine was a while ago and there’s no going back. If you mean it say it, if you don’t, don’t say it. That simple. Fluffiness takes too much room and you can’t close the door properly anymore so you’ll feel the draft sooner or later. After a while it gets awfully cold. Even in the middle of a hot summer day, it really does.

PS: There is this little big secret some people know: It’s about not stepping out too much during challenging times and yet knowing that those who care will be there with a hug when you do. And the other way around.

Say you’re five and a half and playing with a pirate island toy that has a pretend crocodile pit suggested on it. For pretend play that is. If you’re like Sasha you’d want to scrape the pretend part off and make it a real thing. Which is exactly what he did and thus pour water in places that could not hold it. The toy was not intended for water play, so it leaked all over the living room. Even with all the careful preparations he put into it. Frustration and tears ensued. That’s elegantly put. And then he said “You know, Mom, adults only think about themselves when they’re designing toys, they don’t think about the kids. They don’t. ”
Puzzled? Yeah, to say the least. Cornered. that too. What could I say? All those times when I tried to suggest a cleaner, more adult version of a game were now sticking their tongues out at me like naughty kids and I felt pushed my by own adult indignity into a dreaded pile of mushy falseness.

As expected, that initiated a sequence of thoughts. How many times have I tried to deter him or his brother from doing something that seemed a bit too crazy because I wanted to take the safe exit and not have to deal with a possibly messy aftermath. How many times I did not encourage their ideas because, according to my adult standards, they were stepping out of bounds? If it was at least one time, then that’s one too many. So, change of plans. If I want them to be creative and daring like all humans were intended to be – what, you didn’t know that? – there is only one way to do it. Let them be. I’ll let them add the kid touch to games and toys and I’ll remind myself that life through kids’ lenses is a multidimensional one. Sometimes that leads to puddles and sandy patches around the house, and inconvenient as it sounds, there is always a solution to it. Kids have it, they become helpful and willing to clean or fix the results of their potentially messy but oh-so-exciting endeavors. It comes from the satisfaction of having played fully.

Come to think of it, the best memories the boys and I have are from those times when we rolled with crazy ideas and made them into creatures that danced and tumbled and made the world around all silly with colors and laughter. I can never remember the things people say about my kids when they’re all proper, but I’ll always remember this total stranger walking up to us one early March day at the river when the boys were swimming in mud and having the time of their lives and saying “I wish I had a camera to take a photo of your boys and show my wife how kids are supposed to play…”

Now, back to the pirate island toy. Maybe if Sasha would put mud instead of water in that pit then the leaking problem would be fixed. Worth a try, right?

A crutch story: One day a woman saw me walking with my crutches and suggested that my two walking devices had not been properly adjusted to my height. I was walking too low, she said. I did not think twice. I adjusted the crutches one notch higher and it all seemed better. For less than a day that is. Following a couple of close calls with the pavement I reverted to my previous fitting. Now, for those ready to say “Oh, I wouldn’t have listened to that,” well, I guess this post will not enrich your life much. But for the rest of us mortals who admit taking someone’s opinion just because it was stated – sounds weird but that’s how I see it – here’s my take on it. I listened without questioning her credentials in any way because I assumed she knew more. Why? I don’t have an answer, I really don’t. I just assumed she did. My next question is this: How often do we do that? If I tell my children to change something in the way they’re doing things,  they ask “Why?” If I have an answer that makes sense they will consider my suggestion. If not, they’ll skip it. It seems fair. If there’s a why, there should be a good enough answer too. I usually ask enough questions to clear any existing brain fog, but it bothered me that I did not question the information I was handed this time. Some facts are strikingly evident, sure. They belong to the truth pile. But what about the rest that should be seasoned with a “why” or two?

Now, my question is this: Have we lost the “why” along the way because of too many unsatisfactory answers or because asking was becoming bothersome to others so we dropped it to fit in and not be the catalyst for polemics? Either way, if we did, I believe that’s called complacency. Doing it occasionally on a personal level is not advisable but we’ll live to tell the tale – hopefully – but doing it as a society is downright scary. Complacency is a slippery slope, is it not? “Why” is a good accessory to take along on this journey called life, it really is. Why, you ask? Because the colors are brighter. Just my opinion, feel free to question it.