Monday, February 9, 2009

In Defense of My Blog Title

When I told my husband the title for my blog, he told me it was depressing. If you understand its meaning, though, it's quite the opposite.
I have and care for seven children, one of them severely disabled. I work as an exercise physiologist, doing consulting work for businesses and hospitals, and as a personal trainer. I also keep up a regular exercise regimen of my own. And I'm happy. I enjoy life. I love my kids. I like my work. But what I hear on at least a weekly basis from someone is, "How do you do it?" The question is followed by some emphatic statement, "I could never do what you do." "God must have given you Chaya [our daughter with disabilities] because he knew you could handle it." "I don't know how you manage it." "And you seem so happy and so together!" I react with the most honest response I know. "What else am I going to do? Kill myself? You do what you have to do, and if you were in my situation, you could do it too."
Thus, the title. I have realized that I live my life in the only way I really know how to...to live it. And living, for me, implies certain givens:

1) You do what you know (or at least think) is right.
2) You endure whatever situation you find yourself in.
3) You learn from your own experiences and that of others.

Anything else is suicide, whether spiritual or physical.

As part of #1 and #3, I feel compelled to throw out there my voice on issues of the day, whether or not that voice gets picked up by anyone else. It's what I think I can do now. And my posts may not be frequent, eloquent, or sometimes even well-thought out. But they will always be honest.

2 comments:

  1. No one else has commented so I figured you must be lonely. I still remember when you threw an elephant from the Noah's Ark playset the length of the hallway and hit me square in the back of the head. If I ever go bald back there I'm sure we will find that it left a mark. But you have somehow managed to grow up into an OK person, probably thanks to my good example.

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  2. Cousin John, as the patriarchal cousin, you could take responsibility for how we all turned out. Might want to think twice about that.

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