Lost and Found: Focusing on What Remains

Ever since I can remember, I have loved the written word. As a child, I spent most, if not all, of my allowance on books. While other kids were cutting class in high school to go to the mall, I was cutting class to go to the library. (By the way, librarians will NOT ask why you aren’t in class if you are quietly reading a book. I know this from experience.) I was a bibliogeek (I made that word up). Still am. I would rather read than do just about anything else. I love the smell of ink on paper. I love the dry whisper of another turned page. I would rather take a leisurely stroll through a book store than spend a day at an amusement park. Books bring me a tremendous amount of joy, but this love of the printed word could also launch me into despair if I allowed it to. Here’s why.

Due to an inherited condition called PXE, I am slowly losing my ability to see. And this, ultimately, means my ability to read. Barring a dramatic breakthrough in treatment, there will come a day when I will no longer be able to read a printed book. So, somewhat grudgingly, I now own a Kindle and an iPad and the various apps that allow me to read books on my laptop. With these concessions to technology, I can electronically enlarge fonts and continue to read, at least for a while, when print on paper has stopped being a possibility for me. And when the time comes that I can’t see even the biggest fonts, I will listen to audio books, because I refuse to give up on living a life full of the things that matter to me. I’m stubborn that way. I might lose some of the experience of reading, but the stories remain.  

Loss is an inescapable part of the human condition. But if we allow our focus to remain fixed what we’ve lost, rather than what remains, we will lose heart. Someone once said “life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage”. I don’t think of myself as being particularly brave, but I’m no coward either. So, I choose to fix my eyes (such as they are) on what remains, and frankly, that is a lot.

My advice to anyone facing obstacles is this: Stop thinking about what you can’t do and start doing what you can. The very courageous writer, Peter McWilliams, once said “If one person has ever done it, you can too. If no one has ever done it, you could be the first.” 

Here are the inspiring stories of people who chose to expand their life in proportion to their courage. They have not focused on their loss but on what remains. You can do the same.

Jean-Dominique Bauby

Jessica Cox

Natalie du Toit