Spirit

So I'm sitting on a bus going somewhere downtown. And I'm people watching, because it's always interesting to do so. In front of me, there's this lady who is probably in her late 30s early 40s. She's in a wheelchair. 

Immediately, what strikes me is this sort of cynical, detached look on her face. She has this angry, self-confident negativity written all over her features.

This makes me wonder. What if I ended up in a wheelchair for life? Would I look like her? And I realize that I would have a choice. That this sort traumatic event would change me and mold me as a person, and that I would have the opportunity to choose who that person could be.

It could turn me into a cynical, jaded person, who has lost the beauty and wonder of life. The kind of person who sucks life out of the people around them because they themselves aren't hopeful, aren't enjoying, aren't living.

I could turn into a jaded person. Or I could choose to keep the wonder, the optimism, and the joy. The tragic event of being confined to a wheelchair would not have to dampen my spirit. It could even perhaps help me in certain ways.

Which would I choose?

And then it hits me. I make this decision every day.

Will I keep the wonder, or will I let it die?