See, it's really all about the possibilities.

Today is both Love Thursday and Blogging Against Disablism Day 2008.  I find myself with an embarrassment of riches, topic-wise.  So many things, oddly, relate to both!  It may not be clear how this can be true.  But "disablism" is prejudice against people with disabilities, while love, of course, has little to do with any such thing and must combat disablism or any other unkind prejudice by its very nature.

There are so many topics I could have discussed just for BADD '08.  I thought about blogging about my own personal winter of disability, how often, unlike in years previous, I actually thought of myself as a person with a disability and what I did about it.  Sometimes the disability was in me.  Sometimes, on the other hand, it was more the "social model of disability" I was battling.  Perhaps, I thought, I would show you what it looks like when a town properly and dutifully installs ramped curb cuts at every crosswalk but then doesn't maintain them as vigilantly as the streets when it snows, not even at the height of the holiday shopping season, not even three blocks away from the main library.  (Click to enlarge for full sense of daunting.)

Then I thought I would amuse you with my experiences this winter using local parking reserved for the disabled.  For example, if you are as big a fan of Ms. AmpuT as I am, perhaps you remember this lovely sign, which is in fact posted here on the west side of my undeniably delightful town.  It and its identical twin grace two spaces in the parking lot for my favorite local bakery and café.

However, the other day I noticed something funny.  Across the parking lot, in front of the clever design house Swing, are two more spaces (three when it snows and the yellow lane demarcations are obscured) reserved for people with disabilities, and they look from a distance as though they bear the exact same signage.

On closer inspection, though, it is clear that though they once might have been identical, they are no longer.

That's a lot of reserved parking, and it is wonderful to see.  But yes, on this side of the parking lot only, someone has gone to the trouble to paint over the words "Don't cry if towed and fined."  My true love and I laugh about this and wonder why it is so.  Ironically, while I often see vehicles bearing no special permit parking in these spaces ("for just a minute while I [fill in the blank]," no doubt),  including one very nice Mercedes I'm still looking to photograph in the act, I never ever see anyone who shouldn't park in spaces marked by the signs with the original wording intact.  Go figure.

But here's the thing.  While all of this makes funny fodder for the purpose of opening conversations about disablism, it is hard to say what it has to do with love.   True, as we have discussed previously,  a genuinely loving culture cares for and protects everyone in it, or at least tries.  However, I strongly feel that a personal practice of love and compassion is most constructive when it not only allows us to see injustice or unfairness or simple absurdity and argue for better, but also when it allows us to see something that is already right and share it with others, or at least to share a vision of something that can be right, all on its own, even if it's just a terribly small thing.

And that's how I hit on what I want to talk about today, Love Thursday and also Blogging Against Disablism Day 2008:  just a small possibility.

Awhile back, esteemed correspondent Elizabeth McClung raved a bit about the perfection of badminton as a wheelchair sport and encouraged others to pick it up.  Continuing a theme, her readers began a discussion of other sports a wide spectrum of able-bodied and disabled people could enjoy together.  Inevitably, even though it is not the kind of team sport Elizabeth meant to discuss but more an individual practice, ever adaptable yoga was mentioned.  And then I mentioned tai chi.

I suggested to Elizabeth's esteemed correspondent LilWatcherGirl, who had described herself in comments as an "EDS-er" (person with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome) with proprioception issues and dyslexia, that she might want to look into it.  And later, I wondered if this had been presumptuous.  What the hell do I know about either tai chi or EDS?  That's right!  Absolutely nothing!

Among his many other fine attributes, however, my true love just happens to be a tai chi student and teacher.  He teaches privately, and also through a continuing program at the Emerson Umbrella for the Arts, in the dance studio there almost every Saturday morning from September into May.

We have had many discussions about yoga and tai chi, comparing and contrasting them.  I don't really view yoga as a sport, precisely, but contrary to the belief of many, tai chi is a real, live martial art, not just a woo-woo New Age movement practice.  One of the things yoga and tai chi have in common is that they are about energy, about channeling it and maximizing it through the body and the mind.  Another thing they have in common is the diversity of practitioners, and the diversity of teaching styles.

I think I have mentioned in comments here before that, although it is eminently adaptable, and although you can even see on page 77 of the January/February 2006 issue of Yoga Journal a photograph of the much respected yogi Sri B.K.S. Iyengar assisting a female transfemoral amputee such as myself with a Warrior Pose at a conference in Colorado, it is nevertheless very difficult to find yoga instructors who are willing to take on people with discernible physical disabilities.  Some of this is fear of liability if we are injured while in class, because another big part of this is that most teachers really don't know what to do with us.  I've also read and heard of yogis explaining that you can't really get real yoga unless you have all your limbs in good working order.

As the English say, bollocks.

Now, look.  I am not a Yogi.  I am an adaptive yoga practitioner.  I am also not Hindu and don't speak Sanskrit.  I am not trying to get to Nirvana from this incarnation; I don't even believe in god(s).  So I am not going to argue with anyone whether or not it is possible for me to be missing a leg and also become a "real" Yogi, because I think it's a stupid, pointless argument.  Yoga or yoga-derived practices of mind and body are things I have pursued to make myself stronger and freer.

In our extensive discussions, I have told my true love all about all of this.  And guess what?  These reasons I study Yoga?  These are also some major reasons (besides also, for example, being able to take down an attacker in a dark alley) that people pursue study of various martial arts, including tai chi.  And this is why my true love is always, always, always trying to recruit people to tai chi specifically, especially people with various physical infirmities.

My true love is convinced that tai chi is the antidote to a wide range of complaints!  Flat feet?  Take tai chi!  Aching back?  Again, tai chi is the answer!  Chronic headaches?  Fibromyalgia?  Arthritis? Cancer?  Tai chi, tai chi, tai chi, tai chi!  Okay, not the answer.  My true love is not stupid or insensitive.  He just thinks tai chi can do you a lot of good, no matter who you are, and I must concede that medical studies increasingly bear out his point.

(Well, they're starting to.  My true love wishes to point out that he is as yet unaware of any studies linking tai chi to health benefits for cancer patients or people with flat feet.)

He's serious in his belief, and he spends a lot of time thinking about this.  Last time we were in my prosthetist's waiting room, we were even talking about how he could teach tai chi to amputees.  I had to stand up to demonstrate the different ways that lower-limb amputees use knees both organic and mechanical and balance between them, different from whole-bodied people, I mean.  "Ah, I see," he said, and then the wheels began whirring in his head, visibly, almost audibly, and I went back to reading my book and absentmindedly dripping iced coffee all over my T-shirt.

Bear in mind that my true love does not have any amputated students, nor have any amputees yet contacted him about lessons.  He was just thinking about the possibilities.

So that day when I actually made so bold as to suggest tai chi as a possible physical outlet even for an "EDS-er," and then immediately had doubts about whether or not I should have done that, what could be more natural than to ask my true love directly?

I told him what I'd done, and of my doubts.  "So, what do you think?  Was I telling the truth?  Could a wheelchair user get something out of tai chi?  How 'bout someone with dystonia, cerebral palsy, paralysis?  I mean, I know they aren't going to become martial arts masters, like, Jackie Chan level or whatever, but do you think it would actually do them some good?"

"Sure!"  He said this without hesitation.  "You know, most of my students aren't going to get to that level.  For that matter, neither am I," he added with a little laugh.  "It's practically impossible for a person starting as an adult to really become a true master.  You have to start when you're really little, like they do in Chen Village [where tai chi originated] and practice all day, every day, for years.  But what difference does it make?  You can still get something out of it."

"So how 'bout you personally?  Would you teach a person with disabilities?"

"Sure!  I'll teach anyone who shows up!"

"Anyone?"

"Yeah!  Why not?"

"Well, what if they can't do much?"

"I'll teach 'em whatever they can learn.  'Cause that's what it's about, you know, doing what you can do, not worrying about whatever levels you're never going to reach."

"So what exactly would be the point of someone who was maybe barely mobile studying tai chi?  What could this person expect to get out of it?"

He replied -- and I asked him to write it down for me today, because this other conversation took place a whole brain surgery ago and I just couldn't remember exactly what he said -- "That's a good point.  Taiji is a whole body movement.  You use everything, the arms, the rib cage, the abdomen, the hips and the legs.  If you couldn't move [anything at all], it's not the right thing for you.  However, if you can breathe, and move even just your shoulders, it can help strengthen what you have.  Everything else is bonus."

So.  You "heard" him, right here.  My true love said he will teach tai chi to anyone who shows up, no matter what their physical condition might be, though he does feel that you should be able to at least breathe and move your shoulders in order to feel the benefit.  (To sign up for classes, which are ending for the season very soon but will start up again in the fall, contact Emerson Umbrella for the Arts or e-mail me privately and I will forward your information.)

This, obviously, is the opposite of disablism.  This is also another of the many faces of love.  This one is actually two faces in one:  passionate love for a particular sport or practice and also that generous love for other people that causes us to wish everyone maximum opportunities, to believe in the existence of possibilities and to desire to help make them realities, even if we don't know what they are yet, and to act on that desire in our everyday lives just as a matter of course.

I just wanted to point that out.  Sure, I also have complaints and lectures and all kinds of snarky ridicule to deliver on all kinds of related topics at some other point in the future, but look:  here is one tiny thing that's good, one teacher who gets it -- and I'll bet there are others.  (There must be others.  Please feel free to talk about any you know in comments, and to provide links where available.)

And that, my friends, is my contribution for today.  I know it's a steaming pile of disorganized rambling, and I apologize for that, but my weak excuses are that I am very tired and also that I started out with way too many ideas.  If you've gotten this far, thank you, and happy Love Thursday, but also happy BADD '08.  Now I'm off to read what others have written to celebrate the day on both counts.

Comments

[kathy a.]

this is absolutely gorgeous.

[leslee]

Last night my yoga teacher told us that since most of us will be practicing yoga until we're 80 or 90, there's no need to try to achieve everything at once. In other words, just do what we can do right now. Since it's Iyengar yoga, the studio is usually littered with props by mid-class - chairs, bolsters, blankets, blocks. I'm thinking that a good creative Iyengar teacher could figure out alternatives using props for anyone who's disabled. My teacher is always setting up different arrangements for different students just due to various back or knee issues, or whatever limitations each of us has, so we can get proper alignment. It does take a creative and attentive teacher. Also, the prop-happy Iyengar style might be particularly well-suited for people with disabilities.

[Michelle]

Such a fabulous message for everyone. I would love to take tai chi with your TL; dang this ocean between us!

[liz]

Now I'm in love with your beloved.

I think I'll take up Tai Chi.

[Ron Sullivan]

You know that thing about love? That's one reason I get all blissful at things Hawai'ian. I mean, they say "Aloha" all the time and it's even kinda culturally safe to practice it.

[Kay Olson]

I love your true love.

Also: Matthew Sanford

Simi Linton reviewed his book some time ago here.

Also: I can't wait for more of the snark.

[Chris]

Hi! Thanks for the comments and help on my blog! Chris

[Sara]

Thank you all for the great comments! I will respond to these comments individually, but first I have to finish reading all the other BADD '08 posts. (I feel like I should listen to some other voices before I start up with my own blabbing again.)

Yes, I AM STILL READING. Yes, still! I've been reading since Thursday night, and yet I am only about 2/3-3/4 of the way through. Part of this is because my reading is still a little slow, and part of this is because almost nobody had anything short and sweet to say this year (pot, meet kettle), so there are all these long, impassioned, often quite brilliant entries that have been filling my mind and heart and that deserve far more than a quick skim.

But meanwhile, thank you all, really. I'm grateful for your contributions here, and I'm not ignoring you, I swear. :)

[jen of a2eatwrite]

Hi Sara - I found your blog via Michelle at Bleeding Espresso. You are a marvelous writer!

I'm either an EDSer or have fibromyalgia or RA (still trying to figure out the diagnosis 6 years later because I don't fit into a "category). Another EDSer and I took NIA classes at the Y and got a great deal out of it. It was reminding me of your points here about Yoga and Tai chi, as Nia will take you as you are, and you can get both cardio and meditational benefits from it. It's great stuff. Thank you for this wonderful post, and thanks to your True Love for his loving stance!

[NTE]

You had a lot of important things to say, and I think that you did a great job! Those signs are hysterical, IMO. Must get some!

[Kay Olson]

My true love said he will teach tai chi to anyone who shows up, no matter what their physical condition might be, though he does feel that you should be able to at least breathe and move your shoulders in order to feel the benefit.

I've been obsessing on this a bit. I've read books on meditation that insist on the importance of breath to the process -- and I understand why that is so for meditation, yoga, tai chi, etc. I used to meditate, back when I breathed for myself. I even reached that blissful euphoric state once -- unbelievable. So I think I get the point of focusing on or manipulating breathing as part of the process.

But I suspect that an understanding of how vents work with the person using them combined with a knowledge of tai chi (I have the first kind of knowledge and utterly lack the second) would remove even the prerequisite of breathing on one's own from a teacher already willing to work with someone who can only move shoulders.

It'd be interesting, in any case. Take Christopher Reeve as an example. He had as high of a spinal injury as is possible to have and before his death was able to do some minimal level of breathing on his own, I read at the time. I don't know the exact details of that, but what it likely means, at minimum, is that he was able to keep the vent from regulating everything for a short time. Maybe he could trigger just enough breaths per minute that the machine didn't kick in to deliver a minimum number. Or maybe he could even "stack breaths" which is a vent-user trick for stretching the lungs similar to sighing big: You don't exhale all of one breath so that the next, and the next, collect in the lungs so you hold more than the set volume of air. It's exercise for those of us who get little otherwise.

In Reeve's case, I'm not sure he could feel his chest rising even if he could breathe a bit on his own. An interesting puzzle for tai chi or meditation, where feeling the breath is important, right?

Like me, many people using a vent can move their diaphragm some, just not enough to maintain a healthy level of oxygen in the blood. So understanding what the vent does, what the vent user does, and how the user might "subvert" the machine's work for the length of an exercise regime, just enough to create that relationship to breath needed for the workout....

Well, it interests me.

[lilwatchergirl]

Ello! Great blog you've got here. I did appreciate your suggestion of Tai Chi. I need to look into it! Finding sports/martial arts teachers who will accept disabled students is difficult, in my experience. But your story shows it's not impossible. I will give it some more research time. Thanks! :)

[Sara]

FINALLY I am here to answer comments. Thank you all for your patience.

Kathy A: I'm so glad you enjoyed it. :)

Leslee: I love your teacher's attitude. It's sort of like something else my true love and I have put into this discussion, but which I forgot to mention specifically: NOBODY starts out anywhere but the beginning. Nobody.

Thank you also for making the Iyengar connection. I hadn't realized that one of the "prop-happy" yoga styles was Iyengar specifically, but that makes sense, and it's a good tip -- as good a starting place as any, certainly. :)

Michelle (Bleeding Espresso): You never know what may happen in the future. My true love has averred over and over -- and stop me if you've heard me say it before -- that he dreams of living in a place where he tells the village children all about snow, the strange ice that falls from the sky; and then the children go home and tell their parents about it, and their parents call him a big fat liar. Maybe it's a stretch to think that could be anywhere in modern southern Italy, but... ;)

Liz: Hey, go for it! And do let me know how it works out for you.

Ron: Yes. And from what I understand, in the ancient Tahitian culture from which the Hawaiians are believed to have derived, children didn't belong to their parents but to the whole community. Everyone could love them, everyone could teach them, and everyone was responsible for protecting them, always. Kind of like Canada geese, I've also heard. (Had to bring birds into this somehow, right?) Whether true or mythical, we could do worse than to attempt to emulate this model.

Kay: Thank you so much for the great links! Awesome! I've never heard of this guy before, or if I have, I've forgotten. Oh, and look: he's an Iyengar guy, just like Leslee was mentioning. And I see that he's in MN; have you ever taken a class with him?

Layton's review is great, too, very wise and open-minded.

And never fear; in me the snark is always seething just below the sugary surface.

(And I saw that you left a second comment, but I'll answer it in order because otherwise I'll get confused.)

Chris: My pleasure!

Jen: Funny you should mention NIA! My true love and I have just started noticing studios offering it around here (in West Concord and also in Maynard Center) and we were wondering what that was. Thank you so much for sharing it; it sounds like it has a lot of potential for a lot of people.

NTE: Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed your visit. And yes, I would dearly love to see a lot mor signs like that. A lot more.

Kay again: :) Well, since I know absolutely NOTHING useful about either ventilators or tai chi, I forwarded your comments to my true love to see what he would say. This was his reply:

"Strengthening the lungs, and oxygenating the blood as much as possible is always a good goal. However, I am not sure that I as a Tai Chi teacher would provide much value to some one in this situation, over say a respiratory therapist."

And this is not to be construed as "Don't bother coming here; I won't teach you." He really will work with anyone who shows up (though individuals of any ability level who are under 18 years old must be accompanied by a legal guardian of some sort at all times), and is both curious and creative by nature. He just wants people to get the most bang for their bucks (not many bucks, but still).

When I asked him about this to confirm that this was the case, he also brought up another practice called "qi gong" (pronounced "chee gung"). This is sort of similar to tai chi, but not martial. "And the breathing is much simpler," he said, but I don't quite know what that means. It's another mind-body-energy practice which he thinks would be perfectly suitable for anyone who wants to pursue it, and he suspects it might even be more suitable for vent users than tai chi, but he confesses that he doesn't know enough about how vents work to say for sure. He doesn't teach qi gong himself simply because of a lack of passionate interest, but he strongly feels we should put it on the list of things a lot of different people might find useful and fun, and which people of diverse ability levels can practice together.

LilWatcherGirl: How delightful to see you here -- and to know that you didn't think I was being presumptuous! I hope you read the comments above and my replies to them, because yes, it shows that it is possible! And if you ever find yourself in eastern Massachusetts, USA, do let us know. I'm sure my true love would be happy to give you a lesson if you haven't already found a teacher by then.