On September 2^nd, 2010, I saw Dr. S for the first time.

It took me over six years to make that first appointment.

What took me so long?  Looking back, I believe the stigma of “seeing a therapist” is what caused the delay.  Forgive my generalization, but I’m a man.  Men believe they can handle things on their own.  We don’t like asking for help because it makes us look weak.  At least that’s our perception.  In reality, asking for help when you need it is one of the strongest things you can do.  Especially if you’ve been driving in the wrong direction for an hour and everybody knows it, but you don’t want to admit it.  Am I right?!  Anyway, for me, I didn’t want anybody to know about the dark feelings bubbling underneath.  Heck, I didn’t want to believe they were there myself!  I wanted to be a good dad and husband and take care of everything on my own.  So, I stuffed it all deep down inside.

Also, I’m a pastor.  While it’s becoming more widely accepted and even encouraged for pastors to see a therapist, there’s still a large segment of folks within the church who view it negatively; some even as sin.   “The Bible says NOT to be anxious, so if you are its proof that you don’t believe He’s going to take care of you,” they say.  I believe they are missing the point, though.  I love and want Philippians 4:6-7 tattooed on me somewhere, but this admonition works in conjunction with our brains.  We are physical and spiritual beings, which means that we are subject to both scientific truths and supernatural realities.  Whoa, that got a little serious.  All I mean is that, yes, those of us who believe in God and the Bible should pray and receive the “peace that surpasses understanding,” but also realize that each of our brains work in a certain way.  He has placed people in our paths to help us understand our unique ways of thinking, which in turn enables us to live healthy and wholly spiritual and physical lives.  *sighs heavily and wipes forehead*

So, what was it that eventually got me to make that first appointment?  One day at work, I took a call from a doctor calling about his patient (I work in health insurance).  He sounded sincere and genuinely concerned for his patient.  I thought, “Huh, this sounds like a guy I could trust.”  So, I looked him up, saw that we had some similar interests, and made the appointment.  Six years of thinking I should see someone and this five minute conversation was the push I needed.  You never know what it’s going to take!

When I first met with Dr. S, I was in really bad shape.  My mind was taking me to dangerous places.  When I’d start to worry about a situation, it would always end-up with me either dead or in jail.  It sounds funny, and I joke about it now, but at the time it was crippling.  “I wish we had video tapes from those first sessions,” Dr S. said at our last appointment.  It seems like a lifetime ago.

On Tuesday we had our last session.  Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, recruited Dr. S to pioneer their cognitive therapy department, so he’s leaving at the end of the month.  I’m sad, but also excited for him and grateful for how far we’ve come.  He’s leaving me in a good place.

I’m not “cured,” by any stretch of the imagination.  In fact, the things I struggle with – anxiety, worry, shame, debilitating perfectionism – aren’t necessarily curable, per se.  But, I do have the skills to manage them now.  I’m able to identify them and prepare for situations wherein I anticipate those feelings rising-up.  And when they surprise me, I don’t think I’m going to die or end-up in jail anymore.  Progress!

May is Mental Health Awareness Month, which is one of the main reasons I posted this.  Honestly…I was scared to.  “What will people think?  I’m still messed-up in a lot of ways, so what gives me the right to say this stuff?” I thought.  There were about thirty other thoughts that popped into my mind, but the bottom line is this: If one person reads this and decides to make that first appointment, it’s worth it.  It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

So, thank you, Dr. S.  Thank you for helping me to understand how my brain works.  Thank you for giving me strategies to cope and even take advantage of my unique way of thinking.  Thank you for assuring me that I’m not alone. Thank you for laughing with me and allowing me to grow, even when it seemed like it was slow going.  

You really have changed my life for the better.

If you’re looking for some good books, I highly recommend Brené Brown‘s The Gifts of Imperfection and Daring Greatly and Rhett Smith‘s The Anxious Christian.

The post I See A Therapist appeared first on Living One-Handed.

Having recently finished Katie’s book, Five Fingers, Ten Toes: A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child With a Limb-Difference, the exchange I witnessed between the two of them in January comes as no surprise.  They are quite the pair, those two!  In her book, Katie recounts her journey as a young mother raising a different kind of child.  What I love most about Katie’s story is the honesty with which she tells it.  Her struggles, her fears, her bad reactions, her confusion…all on display.  What is also on display, though, is her growth and her wisdom.  She shares with us her philosophies on parenting and tells us how she did it without making the reader feel like they’re a bad person if they don’t do it the same way.

It was so interesting for me as a limb-different person to read about the experience from her perspective.  To hear about the painful beginnings in the delivery room and to know that my own mother went through much the same experience.  To see the many parallels between Tony and I.  My mom read the book, too, and hasn’t felt able to talk about it with me yet.  ”It’s so, so powerful, Ryan,” she told me, “I’ve had to set it down numerous times to just cry and remember.”  She connected so deeply with the joy and the pain that Katie went through and found it overwhelming to know other women went through the same thing.  If you’re a parent, especially a mom, of a limb-different child, you need to read this book.  It will affect you deeply.

Ultimately, though, Five Fingers, Ten Toes is a book for anyone that likes a good story;  Katie’s is rich and she tells it well.  And it’s not only Tony’s inspiring story about overcoming obstacles along the way to becoming an accomplished musician.  It’s a story about a mother and a father, finding their way.  A sister (Hi, Megan!) who was loved by her brother and parents and has her own story to tell.  It’s about a family.  It’s about love and respect and hope.

And I, for one, am I’m so thankful Katie shared it.

You can purchase Katie’s book through Amazon or her website and you can learn more about Tony at his website, TonyMemmel.com.

The post Five Fingers, Ten Toes by Katie Memmel appeared first on Living One-Handed.

So, here’s the deal: Moms are awesome.

And let’s get this out of the way, too: My wife, mom, step-mom and mother-in-law are the best.

Ok, now let’s get to you.

You’re an awesome mom.  I don’t care if you feel like you suck as a mom or not; you’re awesome.  Do you yell at your kids sometimes?  Do you park yourself on the couch and tell your kids it’s ok to watch Netflix for a couple hours sometimes?  Do you wish your kids could spend the year at your parents’ sometimes?  Do you read blogs and magazines and think to yourself, “I’M THE WORST MOTHER IN THE WORLD!” sometimes?

Sure.  My understanding is that all mothers do this.

Well, except for the ones in the magazines.

I just want to tell you right now that feeling these things doesn’t make you suck as a mom.  It makes you human.  It makes you a woman who does more for her family than can be adequately quantified.  You deal with more crap, literally and figuratively, than most men can comprehend.

Let’s be honest…you probably won’t receive as much recognition as you deserve today.  In fact, you’re probably going to have to clean-up after your kids and husband who have made you breakfast.  A breakfast you might enjoy half of, by the way.  I actually just now asked my wife what she wants for breakfast.  I figure it’s better she gets what she wants than me and the kids making a bunch of stuff she won’t like.  Magical!

Anyway, that’s why I wanted to tell you you’re awesome.  Hopefully your family will do something nice for you.  You deserve it.  I don’t even know you (probably) and I’m still confident in that fact.  You’re doing your best.  And even when you feel like you’re not doing your best, you want to be.

And here’s the truth:

You are enough.  Will you keep growing and learning and gaining wisdom through experience?  Of course.  But right now, today, the woman you are is enough.  Please take time to appreciate yourself.  Take time today to remember what you love about your kids.  Be proud of all you’ve accomplished so far and look forward to all that lies ahead.  Treat yourself to something that will make you smile.

In the last year and a half I have come into contact with so many amazing mothers because of Living One-Handed.  Mothers who share their struggles and successes in regards to raising kids who are different.  I see mothers helping each other on a daily basis.  It’s incredible.  And you know what?  None of them think they’re amazing.  They’re just moms doing what moms do.  Well, I have news for you…

You are amazing.

All of you.

Happy Mother’s day!

My mom on her birthday last month. Doesn’t she look fantastic?!

The post Happy Mother’s Day 2013 appeared first on Living One-Handed.

In this episode we hear from Holly Franklin.  Holly lost her hand when she was 29, so her experience is quite different than my own.  Even so, we have many similarities, including a reliance on humor to get us through!  Also, she has an Australian accent, so…there’s that.  We have a great conversation about her story, prosthetics, how she deals with people who stare and her incredible invention, the 1-Up hair tie!

Holly’s been gracious enough to donate THREE 1-Up hair ties for POH listeners!  How cool is that??  Enter below for your chance to win!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Also, here the link to the piece I wrote about my grandpa that I mention in this episode: Heaven Gained A Hero.

Lastly, dont forget to send me a question for Ask Ryan!  It can be about anything.  I’ll try not to ridicule you like I did Brandon T.  No guarantees, though.

Hope you enjoyed the episode!  If so, I’d love if you left a review on iTunes and a comment below!

The post Podcasting One-Handed: EP2 – Holly Franklin appeared first on Living One-Handed.

I’m still not eating well.  I haven’t yet started running again.  My writing isn’t where I want it to be.  I’m still not focusing completely on the kids when I’m with them.  On and on and on…the same things, over and over.  There’s no question that my desires are good. Becoming a better person is a noble pursuit, right?  Anybody who’s tried, though, knows it’s not easy.  Steven Pressfield talks about how we experience Resistance when we try to better ourselves in his book The War of Art (must read).  I think he’s right.

My friend and I had spoken about focus in previous conversations.  Instead of trying to improve everything incrementally and spreading myself thin, why not try focusing on one or two areas for a specified amount of time?  This time, as he spoke about focusing on just one area and “maintaining” the others, I started to sweat.  And I sighed a lot.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“You can hear me sighing,” I said.  ”I just…I can’t do it!”

“Do you feel like you’d be neglecting everything else?” he asked.

“Yes!  And I feel like it wouldn’t work.  The whole time I’d be trying to focus on that one area, but I’d be distracted by the thought that everything else is going to crap.  I’d just be anticipating everything I’ll have to clean-up once that month or whatever is over.”

I didn’t expect to get so emotional about it.  A couple things came to a head, though, that pushed me over the edge.  First of all, I’m a perfectionist.  So much so that I often don’t start things that I’m excited and passionate about because I don’t feel prepared; even if I’ve prepared for months or even years.  Also, I’m afraid of failure.  Not a great combination.  So, this conversation hit on both of them.  ”Why can’t I do this?  Why is it so difficult for me, but everybody else seems to be able to do it?  I suck.  I’m a failure.”  And so it goes.

The truth is, though, nobody has these expectations of me…except for me.  Nobody expects me to be perfect.  Nobody’s going to hate me if I fail at something.  And yet, so often I let it paralyze me.  Perhaps you feel the same way.

The analogy of spinning plates was used during most of our conversation.  I told my friend that if I only spun one plate, I felt like the rest would all come crashing down.  That’s the mess I’d have to clean-up.  Like this guy:

Ok, not exactly like that guy.

My friend pointed out the flaws in my thinking, though.  First of all, focusing on one doesn’t mean neglecting the rest.  Focus on one and maintain the rest.  Give them a spin to keep them going and then come back to the one.  And while that doesn’t seem ideal (I want them all to spin perfectly!), the fact of the matter is that if I can simply keep my plates spinning during this busy time in my life…that’s success!

He told me to test it.  Focus one plate (for a time) and see what happens.  See if my fears become reality.  Because the truth is, the rest of them probably won’t come crashing down.  In fact, the very opposite is likely to happen.  As I gain traction in one area, I will be able to focus on another and maintain the former more easily and so on and so forth.  And even though I see this possible positive reality, breaking through the perfectionism and fear is still incredibly difficult.

I feel like a lot of people are experiencing something like this right now. This need to focus.  This call to know what you care about, who you are and to push forward.

So, what are your plates?  Do you need to focus on one and get it spinning fast and strong while maintaining the others?  Are you afraid to try it?  Or are you excited?

The post Keep Those Plates Spinning appeared first on Living One-Handed.

My grandpa, Edwin Haack, age 93, passed away this morning surrounded by his loving family; one that knows how to love because he showed them how to do it well.

I’m using this space to share three things today: A little bit about who my grandpa was, a couple of my favorite memories and the experience of having him pass through hospice.  It might be a little raw, so thank you for your understanding.

Grandpa was born in November of 1919, one five children; three boys and two girls.  He grew-up in the Madison area and even attended Madison East High School.  On New Year’s Day in 1942 he married my grandma, June, and they’d go on to have ten children.  TEN.  My daughter Anna’s middle name is June, after my grandmother, actually.  Shortly after they were married, grandpa was drafted by the United States Army and ended-up serving nearly for four years with extensive time spent in New Guinea and the Philippines during WWII.  He was promoted to Staff Sargent status within the 32nd Infantry Division, 127th Regiment.  The 32nd Infantry Division, the Red Arrow Division, was credited with many “firsts” and logged a total of 654 days of combat during World War II, more than any other United States Army division.  While in Leyte (Philippines), grandpa suffered a serious wound to his right leg and was awarded the Purple Heart (more on this later).  When he got back home, he finally met his first child, Bonnie.  She was nearly three when he met her for the first time.

Grandpa and grandma had been married for 49 years when she passed away back in 1991.  Then, in 1994, at age 75, he remarried.  He married a long-time family friend, Mary, and they’ve been together ever since.  I still remember their wedding, the two of them sitting up in front of the church, nervous as could be.  It was adorable.  The two of them loved going to the casino and even took two trips to Hawaii together!  I tell my wife, Julie, “See, don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time.  Grandpa and Mary went when they were almost 80!”  Mary was absolutely, mind-bogglingly amazing through all of this. She has been through so much in her life…what an incredible woman.

Grandpa was strong.  The 32nd was known for their toughness, their resolve.  Their insignia, the Red Arrow through the line, signified its tenacity in piercing the enemy line.  I’m sure he has countless stories, but as he always said, “fighting is fighting.”  It wasn’t glamorous.  His job was to go ahead of his unit during battle and phone back to them to tell them what weight mortar to fire, so they’d get the enemy and not their own men.  While in battle in Leyte, he went ahead and was shot in the lower leg, blowing a fist-sized hole out the back of it.  He laid by a log, wrapped it as best he could, then continued to call back as “pieces of bark were flying this way and that” as the sniper kept shooting at him.  Eventually, and miraculously, two soldiers appeared out of nowhere, made a makeshift gurney and took him to safety. They took him to a church being used as a hospital and took care of him and while there, he saw an angel.  ”I know it sounds goofy,” he said, “but that’s what happened.  They say we all have guardian angels and I got to see mine.”  He spent eleven months in the hospital when he got back to the states, enduring painful healing measures. They actually drilled a hole through the cast and they’d soak a rag and pull it through the hole in his leg, back and forth, to clean it.  Unbelievable.  He was lucky to keep his leg, in fact.  When I saw him a week and a half ago he mentioned that when we talked about my arm for a bit.

My brother interviewed grandpa in 2004 about his experiences in the war and we watched the video of it one night at hospice.  One thing that struck me as he spoke was his humility. He was a war hero in every sense of the word and yet, he didn’t brag or boast.  He didn’t like war.  He said he hopes none of his grandsons ever have to go.  He displayed the depth of his understanding of humanity, too, as he spoke about the enemy.  He said something to the effect of, “Nah, I don’t really hold a grudge.  They didn’t want to fight as much as we didn’t want to, I’m sure, but everybody understood what needed to be done.”  These were the people who were trying to kill him and succeeded with many of his friends.  Again, just amazing.

Grandpa and me at Heidi’s Wedding

Grandpa was funny.  No, hilarious.  He was always joking and making everyone smile.  So, now you know where I get it from.  In fact, a few years ago I performed my cousin Heidi’s wedding and at the ripe ol’ age of 90, he was still cracking wise. After the ceremony my wife asked, “Didn’t Ryan do a great job, grandpa?” to which he replied, “Yeah, he did good. Not as good as I coulda did, but he did good.”  Then he smiled that sly smile like he always did.  If there’s one thing I appreciate most that I inherited from grandpa, it’s that Haack sense of humor. Maybe that’s weird, but the value of humor is vastly underrated, in my opinion.  Thanks, grandpa.

My Aunt Lu, Uncle Roger, Grandpa, Mary and Me at my 18th birthday

Grandpa showed us how to love well.  He helped to raise ten children and set a solid foundation for them.  This week has shown that more clearly than any I can remember.  And there were the birthday cards.  My son Sam said the other day, “I’m going to miss the birthday cards from grandpa the most.”  Every year, without fail, we’d all get a card signed by grandpa with a little money in it on our birthday. It’s a little thing, but to me it was symbolic.  It was symbolic of his reliability.  The reliability of his love for his family.  And he was always so proud of us.  He’d make it to as many birthday parties and graduations as he could.  I’ll always appreciate that about him.

A little over a week ago grandpa went into hospice.  He had stopped dialysis a couple weeks prior and the goal was to get him comfortable as he transitioned.  I believe that mission was accomplished.  Last Wednesday I left work early to go see him and as “luck” would have it, he was alert and lively…and funny.  He was joking around with everybody and smiling and laughing.   At one point it looked like he had dropped something so I asked if he needed anything.  He looks at me and says, “A thousand dollar bill.  When do I get that?” and then he smiled.  Classic.  That night he started seeing/calling out to his wife June, his brother Arnold and others who have already passed.  We were pretty sure he’d go that night.

But, no.  He hung on.  For a long time.

In fact, the nurses said that these old WWII guys typically do stick it out longer than others.  They just have this otherworldly resolve and determination.  On Thursday morning they had a nice ceremony saying their goodbyes and he had been resting peacefully since then.

I will remember the last week for the rest of my life.  It meant the world to me to be with family and to hear everyone sharing stories, some of which had never been shared before.  Part of me thinks grandpa held on to foster that conversation.  Seeing all my aunts and uncles taking care of each other and laughing as they reminisced about their crazy upbringing was inspiring.  We kind of took over that area of the hospice center and several of the nurses became attached to grandpa and to us and said our family made a big impact on them.  That said, the staff at Agrace was unbelievable.  They made an impact on us, too.

As difficult as this week was (how much longer can he go on??), it was also a blessing.  A blessing to be with him; to kiss and hug him and tell him how thankful for him we are.  A blessing to be with family.  A blessing to sing How Great Thou Art as we walked him from his room at hospice. A blessing to sense the love of God in this time of sadness and mourning and to experience the hope of knowing he will live for eternity with his Heavenly Father and those who have gone before him.

One day we’ll see him again.  Until that time, we have our memories and we have each other.  And I know we’re all going to do our best to honor him with how we live our lives.

And I’ll keep trying to make people laugh.  I think grandpa would like that.

Love you, grandpa

Edwin F. Haack
11/15/1919 – 4/2/2013

The post Heaven Gained A Hero appeared first on Living One-Handed.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Mister Rogers is my hero.

Not was, but is.

And I wish you could get inside my brain to understand how serious I am.  Every time I immerse myself in Mister Rogers related material – books, quotes, videos, documentaries – I cry.  I cry when I listen to him talk slowly and carefully, telling me that he likes me.  I cry when he accepts awards by asking everyone to take time and think of those they’re thankful for.  I cry when I watch him speak to the US Senate on behalf of millions of children and, in the process, change the mind of a gruff senator through kindness and humility.  I cry when I read about the countless lives he touched while here on Earth.

Fred McFeely Rogers would have been 85 years old today.

In honor of his birth and life, I’d like to share a few things I love about Mister Rogers, the man.

First of all, and this isn’t one of the three things, but…Fred Rogers represents the term “hero” well.  Heroes scare me, actually.  In this day and age, it seems we just wait for them to fall and, more often than we’d like, they do.  The more we find out about Fred Rogers, though, the more his legacy seems to be strengthened.  In fact, I’m convinced that instead of saying, “See, told ya!” when an icon fell, Fred would be consumed with telling them he cares about them and he’d try to help them.  He’d want to know what led them here.  He’d want to know their story.  Which is the first thing I love about him…

He was genuinely present in every moment and with every person.

In Tim Madigan’s fantastic book, I’m Proud of You, he recounts part of the first conversation he ever had with Fred Rogers.

“Do you know the most important thing in the world to me right now?” Fred asked me that day.  No, I said,  ”Talking to Mr. Tim Madigan on the telephone.”  I’m sure I blushed, incredulous and skeptical.  But somehow, in the way he said it, in that famous, gentle, oh-so-slow voice, I knew that the famous man was speaking the truth.

Tim’s story sounds like every story I’ve heard from those who were fortunate enough to spend time with him.  There was this genuine focus and care he had for each person he interacted with that bordered on the supernatural.  I’m inspired by it.  I’m inspired to be fully present and to care deeply for the person in front of me at any given moment.

He didn’t tell us to ignore our feelings, but rather, he helped us understand them and gave us ideas about how to express them appropriately.

I’m the absolute worst at expressing my feelings.  Or describing feelings in general.  To me, “mad” describes pretty much anything I perceive to be negative.  ”I’m not mad, I’m frustrated,” my wife will say.  She’s way better at describing feelings than I am.  The last year, though, has been a time of growth for me in this area.  And it will continue to be for some time.  I love that Mister Rogers helped kids to know that it’s ok to feel sadness, anger, embarrassment, frustration…and that we shouldn’t just stuff it inside.  We need to acknowledge it and release it appropriately.  This is especially important in the work I’m doing with kids in regards to being bullied.  Mister Rogers said that when he was bullied as a young boy, the adults just told him to ignore it.  Ignore it and they’ll stop.  And there’s truth to that approach as far as the bully is concerned, but the one being bullied must never ignore the hurt and pain that has been caused them.  They must acknowledge those feelings and understand it’s ok to be angry about the abuse, and then they must be taught appropriate ways to handle it.  Mister Rogers gave us permission to feel.

He was an ordained minister without a traditional pulpit.

Banjamin Wagner’s wonderful documentary, Mister Rogers and Me, touched on this only briefly, but it affected me deeply.  Rogers was an ordained Presbyterian minister who used the power of media to make sure every person who saw him heard his message: You are loved.  You are valuable.  Just the way you are.  That is the message of grace, in a nutshell.  In that way, he is my ultimate example as I try to do the same.  He paved the way for me and countless others; it’s up to me to walk in it.

Today I read about the joy Mister Rogers found in learning how to say the word “friends” through sign-language.  To do it, you interlock your index fingers twice.

Friends

It actually made me kind of sad.  Because I can’t do that.  But, then I thought about what I know of Mister Rogers and imagined how he’d react if we were together.  My guess is that he would have noticed I was sad, told me it was ok to feel that way, and then helped me to figure out a different way to do it.

And I love that about him.

Happy Birthday, Mister Rogers!

Love,

All of us who have been changed for the better by you

Now it’s YOUR turn!  What do YOU love about Mister Rogers?  What’s your favorite memory from the show?  Leave a comment below!

The post Three Things I Love About Mister Rogers appeared first on Living One-Handed.

The debut episode of Podcasting One-Handed is up and running (subscribe on iTunes here and/or checkout the bottom of this post!).

I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, actually.  In fact, I went to school for radio and TV broadcasting back in 1997, so this is kind of a rekindling of that passion.  And I have way more control than when I was working overnights at an AM radio station!

My hope for this podcast is for it to be fun, interesting and helpful.  In future episodes I’ll answer questions from listeners and I hope to have many, many guests on.  People have such cool stories and I can’t wait to hear them and share them with you!  Some people who have already agreed to be on: Aron Ralston, Holly Franklin, Noah Galloway, Jen Bricker, Kristy Allison-McDonald…and I’m hoping to speak with Sarah Herron, Josh Sundquist, Kevin Connolly, Nick Vujicic, Sean Stephenson and more!  If you have other ideas of who you’d like to hear from, please let me know!  I also love music and sports, so I wouldn’t be surprised to hear from some of them, too.

In this, the first episode, I got to talk to two people.  The first one is Jim Abbott, my boyhood hero.

Jim with my team, the Brewers

“How the heck did you get hooked-up with him?” you’re asking.  And if you’re not, humor me.  One night on Twitter, this happened:

@jabbottum31 I got to hangout with @mikeschneider25 and @notoriousnewell this weekend. Great guys! Nick deserves the attention!

— Ryan Haack (@LivingOneHanded) February 1, 2013

@jabbottum31 I’d love to do a short interview with you for my blog sometime! Here’s a bit about last weekend: livingonehanded.com/hhf2013wrapup/

— Ryan Haack (@LivingOneHanded) February 1, 2013

He sent me a tweet, then we emailed back and forth, my wife told me to stop hyperventilating, then…

That moment when your childhood hero agrees to do an interview with you for your blog. #YeahThat #FeelLikeIm12Again

— Ryan Haack (@LivingOneHanded) February 1, 2013

Seriously, it was crazy.  And I know I made a way bigger deal out of it than I should have, but it was surreal!  For the interview, I made my entire family leave the house and I built a make-shift studio.  Then I stumbled all over myself when Jim and I first started talking.  Even so, we had such a great time and I somehow find myself calling Jim a friend.  Amazing.

In the interview Jim and I hit on several topics, like his life in baseball, his experience growing-up one-handed, his thoughts on how to handle bullying…and even his thoughts on steroids!  We also talked about his support for Nick Newell, XFC MMA Champion.

That seems about right.

I met Ryan O’Neal from Sleeping at Last last year at the Story conference in Chicago.  I’ve been listening to his music pretty much non-stop ever since.  I’m so thankful he came on to share about his music and artistic process.

Serious.

Here’s the video from Kid President that features his music, too (incase you haven’t already seen it):

I hope you enjoy the podcast and I hope you’ll subscribe on iTunes and tell all your friends about it. hehe

AND…I want to give you some stuff!

Enter below to win an AUTOGRAPHED copy of Jim’s book or an AUTOGRAPHED baseball AND baseball card!

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The post Podcasting One-Handed: EP1 – Jim Abbott and Sleeping At Last appeared first on Living One-Handed.

Find out why…after the break

It’s like The Bachelor all up in here.

I’ll get to why Aron said that to me in a minute, but first, how did I even get myself in that position?  Aron was in Madison today as part of the Distinguished Lecture Series on the UW-Madison campus.  In case you’re not familiar, Aron is “that guy who got stuck in a canyon and had to cut his arm off to get free.”  My friend Mary told me about his upcoming appearance last week.  Thanks, Mary!  I’ve gone to previous lectures and they are always well attended, so I showed up nearly an hour early and it paid off.  I had a great seat even though there were probably a thousand people there.  Such a great turnout to hear him speak!

Aron’s presentation was fantastic.  He walked us through his story, his presentation interspersed with both drama and humor.  He punctuated parts of his story with the lessons he learned from selected events, like the importance of accountability and what he learned about courage and commitment from his ordeal.  He also told us what it’s like to drink your own pee and yes, he went into detail about how he cut his arm off.  Insane.  The whole thing was a wonderful learning experience for a budding speaker like myself, too.

“I suppose drinking your own pee is better than drinking someone else’s pee.” True fact.

After the presentation, they had a reception for Aron, so of course I ran in there, hoping to meet him.  My expectations were low because there were so many people, but when I got in there, there he was! Within a couple minutes I was getting picture with him and talking about our arms.

“We should go shuffle a deck of cards together.” – Aron Ralston

He mentioned how sensitive his skin is where his arm is amputated, which led to our talking about how the skin is less sensitive for congenital amputees like me.  That’s when he laughingly called me a “lucky son of a…”  It was great.  I gave him my card and some stickers and said I’d love to talk more sometime, so he wrote down his email address for me and as he did another question popped into my head.  ”Wait, so were you left-handed before the accident?” I asked.  ”Have you heard of a guy named Murphy?” he replied.  Wow!  So, he amputated his dominant hand with his non-dominant and then had to relearn how to do everything left-handed!  Crazy.

It was a great night.  His story is so unique and inspiring.  If you’re unfamiliar, you should checkout his book, Between a Rock and a Hard Place, and watch the movie about his story, 127 Hours.  I was glad to be able to hear him tell it in-person and to connect with him personally.  And I’ll ask you what he asked at the end of his speech: “What is your boulder?”  What is it that you have to overcome right now?  Because the fact of the matter is…

You can do it.

The post Aron Ralston Swore At Me appeared first on Living One-Handed.

When I asked Julie to “go out with me,” it was quite the event.

I made a scavenger hunt.  I don’t remember all of it, but I do remember that it started with a note on my front door and at one point a card directed her to play “Can’t Fight This Feeling” by REO Speedwagon and another brought her to some roses.  Ultimately, it ended at me and I asked her to be my girlfriend officially.  That was December 18th, 1998.  A week later Julie bought me a TV/VCR combo for Christmas.

I bought her a Celine Dion CD.

“This is for our life together.” Uh…yeah…of course…

Clearly, we were moving in the same direction.

This week’s posts have all been about love.  In Kristy’s case, looking for it, and in Julie’s case, finding it.  A while back, Sam G. asked me through the Facebook Page, “Were you ever nervous you’d never find love because of your hand?”  Kristy very eloquently answered that question on Tuesday and I’ll answer it today: no.  That’s simplistic, but then, I’m a dude.

Truthfully, though, I never worried about it.  My left arm was never a part of the equation, either.  I had what I like to think was a completely normal dating life.  I can’t remember ever bringing-up my arm, in fact.  It just never crossed my mind.  One of the only hand-specific things that I do recall about dating, was that I had to consciously make an effort to be on the girl’s left side when we were walking or going to the movies.  Holding hands, ya know.  That was about it.

Most parents are concerned about (read: worry) who their child will date and ultimately marry.  That’s natural.  I have two girls of my own.  Enough said.  I can understand, too, how parents of children with a limb-difference feel an even greater sense of concern.  I know each child is different, but I feel like I can tell you confidently that you have nothing extra to worry about.  Kids with limb-differences experience the same feelings as other kids.  I know I did.  What I mean is that, I was more self-conscious about my hair and zits and my clothes and my shoes and my breath than I ever was about my arm.

The truth of the matter is, I’m blessed.  If you read yesterday’s post by my wife, you know how blessed I am.  I found love.  Actually, love found me.  And I’m learning a lot about myself now that I wish I knew back then; back when I didn’t know what love actually was.  I’m so thankful to be married to a woman who is patient and kind and funny and beautiful…  She has helped me, especially in this last year, to delve deeply into my past, to learn about who I was and who I’ve become.  I’m excited to continue learning how to love her better, from a place of authenticity.  It’s fun to be twelve years in and yet, feel like there’s so much more to enjoy.

Look at those eyes. Seriously.

And none of that, my friends…none of it…has to do with the fact that I have one hand.

So, I urge you not to worry about your child finding love.  I encourage you to help them experience true love.  Love them unconditionally.  And incessantly.  If you do this, you will enable them to give true love to others and ultimately find another to share it with forever.

And maybe, just maybe, they’ll find someone as amazing as I did.

The post Finding Love With One Hand appeared first on Living One-Handed.