Shut up and adapt.

Today I left my physical therapist in worse shape then when I walked in. Physically, nothing had changed in my knee. The same problems were present, pain unaffected, swelling still apparent. Yet, in "feeling out" my knee to see how it had progressed in the past week she was able to deduce through my facial expressions and pain tolerance that something undetected previously remained unsolved within the labyrinth of cartilage, ligaments and bone. "It doesn't feel good" she remarked, hardly helping to put me at ease. A moments later she phoned my doctor, who immediately wrote a referral for an MRI. Great. 

Mentally I walked out dejected, frustrated, and could feel the anger simmering within myself. I could of drop kicked a puppy. In the world of stopping pucks, aside from your eyes, ones knees are arguably the most pivotal parts of the body. Consequently they are subjected to the most intense strain, pressure, twisting and contorting in the midst of play and thus the reason why so many goalies, in every level, suffer knee problems at some stage of their career. I simply have great timing. Being only two months from the end of what had been stated as my last competitive hockey season, I could not of picked a better time or way to potentially bring the curtain down on my hockey career. As I drove I thought about this, what it would mean, and how I could handle coping with such an abrupt halt to a passion I have shared a love affair with for over twenty years. The anger was now at a rolling boil. 

I mashed the gas pedal, ripped the wheel at every turn and stomped the break and clutch with authority. I found a fitting "Angry" track on the stereo and let my emotions continue on their incensed ascent across Canberra. "Couldn't this have waited until September?" I repetitively questioned myself, "Why now?" I demanded. No answer. Temperature still rising, I could sense the distinct need to physically strike something. With no suitable objects in arms reach I compromised and instead settled on the decision to go to the gym to work off some steam. 

While sitting exhausted and irritated, glaring at myself and accompanying bandaged joint in the mirror I noticed a younger guy repairing an adjacent machine bench. Now, I have seen this guy before, I know he works for the gym. He is in his early twenties, broad but hunched shoulders, a blank almost unassuming face always drawn, constantly trekking around the gym floor in a slow but steady demeanor, often examining each piece of equipment akin to a forensics expert. He never looks unhappy or irritated, he simply and methodically conducts his business and moves on to the next task. Yet, it wasn't until I heard him speak and converse with another person that I realized the handicap he lived with. I don't know his hardships, nor have I asked, but I have occasionally found myself in a kind of quiet admiration of his work ethic and persona. He seems happy and acts with purpose, furthermore you can see the pride he infuses with his hands when working on "his" machines. It's something that can very easily slam everything into perspective if one lets it. 

Here I am, throwing a mental protest, letting circumstances out of my control ruin my thoughts and day alike, completely oblivious to the fact that despite my current hiccup of self health, I still have for the most part all the tools, capabilities, freedoms and privileges that so many less fortunate would give so much to possess. Someone like Albert maybe, the "go-to" gym repairman. And yet there he is, smiling, content, fulfilled and productive despite the odds being stacked on him more than a pancake buffet.  For a moment I couldn't help but to be embarrassed.

Fifteen minutes later I left the gym. While walking to my car I noticed a figure emerging from their vehicle. Something was not right, this person, a younger woman, struggled with even closing her door. She fought with her gym bag to get it comfortable on her shoulder, she dropped her water bottle and had to contort herself downwards just to be able to retrieve it. I watched curiously, albeit with concern. As she made her way out of the cars I was able to see exactly what type of circumstance she was met with. A massive bulge in her upper spine, visible despite the jacket draped around her shoulders. Her hip protruded awkwardly out from her torso, legs bent inwards, feet dragging across the asphalt with each step and her shoes marked and worn from such efforts.  Her body was wracked with hardship. Nothing was easy for this woman, nothing. But again, there she was, taking dynamite to the stereotypes and misconceptions people might hold when they see her. Sixty percent of the healthy population alone can't summon themselves to do personal fitness, but this woman, who has had to juggle and survive so much trudged on, gym bag packed, water bottle filled, towel ready, and no one, herself included, was to stop her from getting a workout in. She was there for the exact same reasons we all were. 

Enter embarrassed part deux.  

Climbing back into my van I had to simply sit and think for a moment. As hard as you might think you have it, as unfair as you might feel the chips have fallen against your favor, and as miserable and sulking as you might feel you should be I tell you this, there is ALWAYS someone else in this world who is worse off than yourself. Lest we forget so often, so caught up in our own concerns, our own hardships and well-beings that we neglect to pick our heads up and look around at others. Some might prefer to ignore the problems and obstacles so many of our peers must confront and surmount, this is simple and minute in nature. But what if we challenge that in actually seeing & recognizing these parallel hardships, and instead of blissful ignorance we embrace and admire their courage in these efforts. Will this lead to a greater feeling of perspective and ability to handle difficulty and hardship in our own endeavors? I believe it does. 

It is a plague of human nature to litter ones mind with self pity. We love to play the victim, for obvious reasons. Victims are the center of attention from others. They receive notoriety, care, and compassion, all invaluable traits to our self psyches. And when given a reason, this self induced defense mechanism triggers, creating a realm revolving completely around ones own self interests and status. Today, using my knee as an example, for over an hour I could not tear my mind away from the negative and "Drastic" effects this injury will cast down upon my lifestyle. Every thought a connection of the previous, all of them falling in congruence with self interest. I let it control my emotion, narrow my thoughts, and blind so much else that makes up not only who I am but how I feel. It took my witnessing of someone with their own challenges so much more great than my own, whose minds and moods appearing so much more mature, more content, more joyous, to rouse my conscience and tell myself to "Snap out of it". We love focusing so much on the past, and what HAS happened, particularly to ourselves, that we neglect to plan our future, our next move, our "What now?"

Life ceases for no one. Challenges will always exist. They may take many forms, through many mediums and affect us in many different and unique ways. It is this time when the strongest prove their talents, their abilities to stare difficulty and friction in the face and brush them aside. Adaptability. Of this we are all capable. If we come to doubt ourselves fear not, for we may merely look around at others, for they are always there. Anything we doubt we can do, someone has done. Any time we say we cannot, someone can. Whenever we believe things are at their worst, they aren't and comparatively when we declare something or someone to be at their finest, it should not be looked at as merely optimistic to say that their best is still to come. Although an inconvenience, my injury leaves much to be desired in terms of magnitude and direness. Where earlier I harped on "Why?" and "How?" I should of been asking "What now?" and "How fast?". 

The challenges of life will not define us. What we do about them will. Adapt.