When my kids were little I discouraged the use of word can’t, it is after all, a four letter word. Probably the most debilitating word in the English language.
The two words I can’t are responsible for a multitude of maladies. Of course the problem isn’t so much the words, but the attitudes accompanying them. For most fully functional people I can’t is a socially acceptable way to say I don’t want to.
If everyone had the gung- ho attitude of Rosie the riveter, just imagine busy and satisfied we’d all be.
On the other hand, much like a belligerent teenager, when someone tells me I can’t do something, I get right to work proving I absolutely can. There is a difference between things I can’t do and things I shouldn’t do. Sometimes it’s all a matter of word choice. I shouldn’t climb a ladder, but I can. Shh! Don’t tell anyone I know this.
Before my stroke, I believed there were no limits to the things I could do, now I’ve had set my sights a little lower. My balance is still iffy, so I try not to do things that might end up in another face plant to the floor. I don’t really fall, I sort of just tip over. I haven’t tipped over in a very long time and I’d like to keep it that way.
I’ve been lucky in my stroke recovery, I’ve had encouragement from my family, from my therapists and from my friends. In the clichéd words of my mother, “Where there’s a will there’s a way.” Cliché, but true.
I’m not there yet, but I’m closer than I was yesterday.