We’re all disabled, just to different degrees. Compared with Einstein, Today’s greatest mathematician is a child. Compared to a kid with Down’s Syndrome, I am a genius. Compared to a llama, Henry Kissinger is...oh never mind. It’s all relative. Still, there is a baseline of what is considered cognitively normal, and right now, Errol is not up to the standard. Then again, he’s not too far, and with the school he’s got, and the love surrounding him, he might just make it to normal. I think I’d rather be on my way up than on my way down, and Errol is definitely going to maximize his potential. There is another baseline, too, that we mustn’t forget, and that’s the happy scale. If you measured happiness, with 10 being blissful, and 1 being miserable, I’d put the average person at around 6 with Errol being about a 9 (where most of us might land on a really good moment). I guess I’d rather be really happy than really smart. Errol, of course doesn’t get to choose (but who does). But I think he’s in store for a good happy life (which is more than most of us can say.)
They say that when researchers ask people to predict what their lives are going to be like, the optimistic people really overestimate how well things will turn out, whereas the pessimists are right on the mark. But so much of our life is spent out there in the future imagining, hoping, planning, that I’d rather be wrong and hopeful, than right and distressed. Errol, of course, because of his Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome, doesn’t spend much time in the future, which is probably about the perfect place to be. He’s right here in the moment, happy as a clam.
The picture accompanying this post is a photograph of a crater on Mars that looks like a smiley face. Neat, huh?
1 comment:
Jonathan,
There was a book in the early 70's called Rembember Be Here Now by Baba Ram Dass. I never forgot that book - it was about exactly the way Errol lives his life - and what we all can aspire to.
When Natalya was a little girl, she was delayed something over 2 years in her gross motor skills. It took years of therapy to get her caught up. (Her nurse used to call her Pokey Jo - she's 15 now and wouldn't want to be reminded of that!) She's always been a little slower than others, and self-conscious to some extent about it. But now she thrives in a trapeze-dance program here -- you never know what changes can take place.
Hope springs eternal!
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