Once again, for the second time this summer, I am posting this blog a day later than normal. What can I say? Once again, family first. I hope everyone understands. Anyhow, continuing with the story of my childhood head trauma, this week I want to talk a little more about the days after I woke from my coma. When a person wakes from such a sleep, it takes time for that person to regain all of his/her motor functions.

The day after I woke from my coma, I began my therapy sessions. Those included learning to speak all over again, as well as a team of physical therapists stretching my legs. The day after I woke I recited the alphabet, which is highly unlike for the victim of an A.V. Malformation to do. I had to learn everything all over again.

On the afternoon of August 31, 1984, Drs. released me and warned my mother (My father was a pilot, so he missed much of these weeks) that I would not begin to walk for at least two years. My mother brought me home and I either rolled around in my wheelchair or crawled around the house.

A couple of weeks later, I crawled down a narrow hallway and asked my mother to step to the side. I told her I wanted to try something. Now, please realize that I can be a rather impulsive person. Sometimes I get this inkling that something is the right thing to do. At my request, she stood back. I lifted a hand, pressed against the wall, shoved my opposite knee forward, and stood.

When my mother brought me to my therapy session the next day, she wheeled me into the hospital; then, she announced to my therapists that I had walked. They reminded her of the impossibility and suggested that perhaps she had had a dream. Obstinate, my mother lifted the foot rests, the therapists set a walker in front of me (yes, my feet were still feeble), and I stood and walked. Of course, then there was screaming and what not; though, imagine, within a 2 month period going from a team of Drs. diagnosing a loved one with an A.V. Malformation along with only a 10% chance of living to walking. That fall, my aunt and cousin moved to San Diego. Paul taught me how to ride a bicycle and six months after the day I stood I ran.

When I make a major life decision, I think forward, and I encourage you to think forward. Sometimes, my major life decisions upset people, because they don’t understand them, but I never regret those life decisions. On the day I stood, and on every other day I’ve made a major decision, I’ve thought forward. I thought forward to my life 20/30/50 years in the future; and I’ve asked myself: “What do I want to see when I look back on my life 20/30/50 years from now?”

Whether it’s a personal, relational, or business decision, I encourage you to think forward. Think about what you want your life, your relationship, or your business to look like when you look back on it many years from now. Sometimes, that means taking chances that may not seem like the safest or most rational. Not everyone will always agree with you, but some will support you. That’s why it’s important to have those people in your life. So, today, whatever is in front of you, think forward. If you have a family, especially if you are married, think about how your decision will impact them. Doing the right thing is not always easy; though, thinking forward will always help you make sure you’re on the right track.

On July 13, 1984 I opened my eyes for the first time in a month. I had fallen into a coma; though, Drs. put me into a deeper coma, so they could perform the brain surgery and stabilize my condition. There was no guarantee I would make it through the surgery or that I would ever wake up. I did wake up. In an instant.

It sounds unbelievable. Like something that only happens in the movies. But it happened. Of course, when it happened I had anything but 20/20 vision. That’s the part about movies that is the most unbelievable. Try sleeping for an entire month and then waking up. When you walk into the bathroom or kitchen in the middle of the night, after sleeping for 4 or 5 hours, you have a difficult time adjusting to the light. Now, imagine your eyes being closed for an entire month.

Over those first several days, everything hurt. I didn’t like to go out in the light. When someone brought me into the light, I wore sunglasses. I never stayed out doors for too long, because the San Diego children’s Hospital (Now, Rady Children’s Hospital was below flight paths in and out of the San Diego), and I didn’t like loud noises. My vision got better, but the murals on the walls continued to blur, then I started seeing double. I learned that by closing one eye I would only see one of everything. My hearing eventually returned to normal, and I got glasses.

25 years later, I still wear glasses and I think loud noises still bother me a little more than most people. A few physical signs of my days in the hospital remain, such as the limp from one of my vertebrate being offset, and the scar on the back of my neck (I’ve actually only seen it once). Sometimes people notice my limp or my scar and ask about them, and I always tell them whatever they want to know.

Whether it’s my limp, which I don’t really notice; the scar on the back of my neck, which I can’t even see; or someone asking me to share about those days, the memory of those days reminds me of where I’ve come from.

Look at your battle scars (past victories). Look back at your life, and consider where you’ve come from. Whether it’s just been over the last week or the last year or the last 25 years. Too often people measure themselves against who they were yesterday; though, that’s like a worm measuring itself against a snake and calling itself short. Think of it this way, if a marathoner ran the hills and the plateaus the same way, rather than pacing him/herself. That person would probably collapse in the middle of the race. If you’re going through struggles in your life, measure yourself against your victories.

Perhaps, it was some sort of brain surgery. Perhaps you were homeless for a time or in an abusive relationship. Perhaps you’re going through a battle right now. There’s nothing wrong with that. We’ve all been through our battles. If that’s the case, go through your current battles with the support of those around you.

I went through my battle back in 1984. I made it through because of a wonderful medical system, the love and support of those around me, and my own unwillingness to give up. So, whatever you’re going through today, just remember to either focus on your battle scars (past victories) or to focus on developing a support system of those who will come by your side and help you through those battles. Maybe it’s both; but, however you get through those battles in your life, just make sure to always focus on your victories.

In a movie I recently watched, the protagonist went on an extended vacation. He didn’t go to visit anyone, and he didn’t tell anyone he left. He took a cruise, on which he befriends several people. He learns from them; they learn from him. Toward the end of the movie, he contracts a virus, and the ship’s doctor can’t figure out what was wrong with him. Before the end of the cruise, he dies without saying goodbye to his family.

Though, I did not agree his decision to take his vacation without letting loved ones know, I understand why he made it. Certain people had caused so much stress in his life that he felt he needed to run. While his death brought misery to his friends and family, if he had not left he would not have learned from and taught people he met. He brought joy to them, learned and grew from them, and they did the same for him. And those people who caused him misery, and made him feel he had to leave, worked out their problems toward the end of the movie.

I believe the meaning of a person’s life is to search for happiness. In fact, we just celebrated the 233^rd anniversary of our nation’s independence, declared by a document in which Thomas Jefferson reminded the British Monarchy and everyone that everyone has the right to, “The pursuit of happiness.”

If you want to connect, if you want to move forward in your personal or professional relationships, pursue happiness. If you are the one causing others pain, please stop before you lose those relationships and hurt yourself. If you are trapped and victimized by others’ selfishness, consider the effect of their negativity on your mental, emotional, and spiritual health, and how that may adversely affect those around you.

I am not encouraging divorce, nor am I encouraging anyone to stay in any type of abusive relationship. I am encouraging everyone to pursue their goals by pursuing happiness; though, never search for happiness at the expense of anyone’s misery. And all the better for a person to pursue happiness by bringing happiness to those around them.

In memory of Michael Jackson, pursue happiness by bringing happiness to those in your world.

Erick

For years, Michael Jackson mesmerized millions, the media praised and punished him, and prisoners in Thailand posted videos of choreographed dances to his songs. Just as Elvis Presley affected music in the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s, Jackson affected music in the 80’s, 90’s, and beginning of the 20^th century.

On the evening of Michael Jackson’s death, on a news special, a friend of his talked about his various plastic surgeries. He said he did not know why Jackson underwent them; though, he theorized that perhaps Jackson began to see his father’s face when he looked at himself in the mirror. In his song, “Man in the Mirror,” Jackson determined to make a change in the world, starting with “The Man in the Mirror.”

To many, Jackson appeared as a monster who slept in oxygen chambers, adopted a pet chimpanzee, enjoyed the company of children, and acted in multiple other ways the media, courts, and countless individuals scrutinized. In the midst of the mounting world of criticism and cynicism, Jackson brought his music to the world and remained true to his mission: “I’m starting with the man in the mirror.”

Today, I am going to begin to change the world, and I am going to start with the man in the mirror. So many times, when I leave my house, I make sure I look the part. When I encounter colleagues and acquaintances, or when I am introduced to people, I smile and shake their hands. I appear confident, and I am confident. While I try to always remain true to myself, my principles, and my goals, sometimes, when I look at the man in the mirror, the face that looks back at me reveals tired and weary scars of appearing beautiful to society. Most of the time, I am proud of the man in the mirror, but not always.

I would like to imagine that in Jackson’s last days, he stood in front of his mirror—a person no different than you or I—and took pride that he had remained beautiful to himself, even if it meant appearing monstrous to the world.

If ever you are hungry, and I do not feed you—if ever you are homeless, and I do not shelter you—if ever you are lonely, and I do not comfort you—please stand up, approach me, and say “Perhaps you should look more closely at the man in the mirror, before you look away from me.”

I encourage you to listen to Man in the Mirror.

Stay Beautiful,

Erick