Coming back to yourself is a bit like recovering from frostbite—it must go slowly to be safe. Relief feels like a promise made with questionable reliability. Hurting is involved. Hope is required.
One day in physical therapy, my PT—someone I’ve known for ages—placed her hands gently on the sides of my face, looked into my eyes, and said, “There you are, Peter.” I cried because I knew exactly what she meant. It was a reference to a pivotal moment in the movie Hook, starring Robin Williams and written by the great J.V. Hart.
In the film, Peter has returned to Neverland as a grown-up, cynical and unwilling to believe in the magic of his past. As he begins to turn the corner toward acceptance, one of the Lost Boys takes Peter’s face in his hands, smooshes it, squints, and searches for something. Then, suddenly, the boy lights up and declares, “Oh, there you are, Peter.” He sees Peter Pan before Peter can see him himself.
That moment in physical therapy became my own turning point. I am still here. It just takes looking closely. It also takes a team of people who see the old me even when I can’t.
That same PT taught me to respond to “How are you doing?” with, “I’m working on awesome.” That reframe is as vital as the therapy itself. I’m so tired of the old answer—the list of ailments, the endless woe-is-blah-blah-blah. This response is succinct, positive, and true. The goal isn’t just to get well. It’s to get all the way to awesome.
I am getting better. It’s taking so much longer than I could have imagined, but I have a growing list of gains. Some frustrations remain, but every improvement gives me hope. So I continue to improve, to heal, to smoosh, to squint, to seek Peter, and to work—doggedly and only—on awesome.
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This post part of a series about recovering from my car crash:
Crash
Monday started with a car crash— I was t-boned by a car that was speeding through a red light. Lots to say about that later, but in short, I feel a little like I was just in another crash on Tuesday.
Lucky and sucky
When I was a kid, a boy named Tommy told me girls couldn’t throw straight. In response, I threw a rock from across the street and hit him square between the eyes. The moment it happened, I was horrified by what I had done—and terrified of what he might do to me. I ran home and skipped school the next day, feigning sickness. My mom didn’t question it. We…
Can’t wait to see Peter on Sunday!
That’s my favorite line in Hook. I saw it so many many years ago and I remember…good luck with all you need to do to heal and get there!