The nation was stunned when Christopher Reeves had his accident and became paralyzed.   I remember seeing him on TV for the first time in his wheelchair, and thinking how he would be just a shell of his former athletic body.  Over time, you could see his weight gain from inactivity (and possibly steroids given for medical conditions?).   I watched him PUSH his breath to be able to speak, timing each word to coincide with his ventilator.  But far from being a "shell" of his life, Christopher Reeves let his mind and spirit shine.

At the time of his accident, I wasn't thinking much about "dreams" and "dreaming."  It wasn't until I was facing my own "activity-bound" life that I realized how important dreams become when you become disabled.  Christopher Reeves dared to dream big, focusing his energies on his Foundation and on stem cell research for those who are paralyzed.  He undoubtedly had dreams for his young son, and his marriage, and dreams he wished for himself.   But, those dreams are only known to his family, not the larger world, not like his Foundation work.  Despite his injury and his activity-bound life, he built upon a dream.

Having once been a able-bodied person, I think it is normal that most people don't even consider that the disabled have dreams!  I had to face the painted walls of my apartment for several years of disability before I even thought about my own dreams. 

With disability comes the inevitable questions of "what now?" and "is this all my life is to be now?"  I started thinking about my former self, and what my dreams had been before.   I realized that it had always been hard for me to simply dream or give any concrete shape to the dreams of my heart.  I knew that my childhood had a lot to do with stifling the dream process.  If you hear enough times that you'll never succeed, or that someone else's wishes are more important than yours, you simply don't let yourself dream.

It's no wonder I could never answer "What did you want to be when you grew up?"  The fact was, in my childhood I was surrounded by talk and fear of impending death because my dad was ill so many years.  It's hard to form dreams when the seriousness of (possible) death is a constant.  

But I do remember some childhood make-believe fantasies, which is the way most kids start to formulate their dreams that one day answer "What do I want to be when I drow up."  It seems silly now but I used to fantasize being on talk shows, like when Merv Griffin interviewed one of his guests.  In my fantasy, I was the guest sitting beside him, balancing on one on Merv's high bar-type stools.  I was an "expert" in some field of interest, and sometimes a singer too!  Once I started singing more in the school chorus, my talk-show-guest fantasy leaned more towards singer, or a singer in a group.  Of course, neither my voice nor my circumstances allowed this fantasy to become a solid dream I could fulfill.

When I was trying to figure out a job I could do in my 20s, it was more from practicality than dreaming when I decided to attend nursing school.  The practicality involved was simple: Nursing was a 2-year school program which I felt I could accomplish; I had been "nursing" my entire childhood with two ill parents and taking care of my younger sister; death was not new to me, having lost both parents; and, finally, nursing school would ensure me of a job.  That was it.  Practical, non-dreaming, a means-to-and-end plan for my life.  Yet, my nursing did highlight some of my passions (the basis of dreams), like teaching/learning, sharing knowledge/insight, leading others gently along the path of living and dying, and a deep passion towards advocacy and fighting for the underdog, mixed in with righting the wrongs within the community.

I searched for more evidence of dreams I once had, but found nothing more than little fragments of ideas -- ideas, not true dreams.  It was no wonder that I have watched as others had successes in careers and families, seeming to have a clear idea where they wanted to go.  My childhood never had the fulfillment of any dreams - of anyone.  There was little support of success, except the expectation to get good grades (which wasn't very hard for me to do).  But beyond grades, there was no "life" attached to the grades, no dreams attached to my life, a life filled with illness and possible death (at any moment, on some unnamed day).

It was for other reasons I sought a "Life Coach" a few years ago; I had a book I wanted to finish, but was at my lowest point in life with facing my own illnesses, and hadn't had much instruction or support in completing goals. (After all, death could intervene at any time, snatching away any hope, any dream, and all the steps one had already taken towards a goal.  My father devoted himself to building a 5 bedroom home during his lifetime, but it wasn't finished when he died...and other people have lived there since.  What a fleeting attempt to completing a goal, it seemed to me.)  The Life Coach asked me to write a story about my life in the future.  And a writing emerged as though it had a "life of its own."  It included many of my strengths and interests I'd identified from my nursing: teaching/learning, sharing knowledge/insight, leading others gently along the path of living and dying, and a deep passion towards advocacy and fighting for the underdog, mixed in with righting the wrongs within the community.

This is what has brought me forward to my goals for my life now.  But I still have trouble focusing my dream; there seems to be so many "underdogs" and problems in our country.  Where can I, as one person - and an ill/disabled person at that - devote my time and energy to change even one thing about our world?  How can I channel the interests I have?  

I've always wanted to make a difference in society's huge problem of child abuse.  But, shame and fear has always held me back from stepping into that spotlight.  And others seem so much more capable of speaking out.  Just this week, actress Terri Hacher came forward with her story.  The Larry King Show had a half-dozen public figures as guests for a discussion of the plague of child abusers and the life-long effects that abuse leaves behind.  When I think of the dreams I have about child abuse issues, I don't think I can do something better than those who have made their pasts' known.  

I seem to still be pulled towards advocacy though as my life unfolds.   Maybe I can't make change happen, though.  After all, I am only one person.  But I'm willing to allow myself to dream now.  

Are you willing to let yourself dream?  What do you want to be, from your bed, or wheelchair, or wherever your life has taken you?   Is there something that would fulfill you?  Is there something you know you could do?  

Dream it... and do it....

It's never too late to dream...

It's never too late to try....

Today is always the right time to dream!

Dream with me.

As I have traveled through the circumstances of being severely disabled, I started to search for ways to COPE with my situation.  The articles on this website were written about coping through soul-reaching activities.  When a person can't "go for a walk" or "get away," it is time to turn to things that can "transport you" out of yourself and out of the situation you are facing.  These are specifically for bed-bound or house-bound persons, and for those who feel trapped inside themselves after years of childhood abuses.