Life Without Limits (12 page)

Do you know what is really laughable? Vanity is hilarious, because just as soon as you think you are looking good and sexy and worthy of the cover of
People
magazine, along comes a life lesson to make you realize that beauty really is in the eyes of the beholder, and what is on the outside is not nearly as important as what is on the inside.

Recently I met a young Australian girl who is blind. We were
doing a Fun Run to raise money to provide medical equipment for needy kids. This girl was about five years old. Her mum introduced her to me after the event. The mother explained to her that I’d been born with no arms and no legs.

Blind people sometimes ask to touch my body so they can comprehend what someone without limbs is like. I don’t mind it, so when this girl asked her mother if she could “see” for herself, I gave permission. Her mum guided her hand over my shoulders and over my little left foot. The girl’s reaction was interesting. She was very calm as she felt my empty shoulder sockets and my strange little foot. Then when she put her hands on my face, she screamed!

It was hilarious.

“What? My beautiful face scares you?” I asked, laughing.

“No! It’s that hair all over you! Are you a wolf?”

She had never felt a beard before. When she touched my stubble, she freaked out. She told her mother that it was sad I was so hairy! This girl had her own idea of what was attractive, and obviously my beard was not on the list. I wasn’t offended. I was glad to be reminded that beauty is definitely in the eyes—and touch—of the beholder.

We humans are a silly bunch. We spend half our time trying to fit in with the crowd and the other half trying to stand out from it. Why is that? I’m guilty of it, and I’m sure you are too, because it seems to be universal, part of our human nature. Why can’t we be comfortable with ourselves, knowing that we are God’s creations, made to reflect His glory?

As a schoolboy, I was desperate to fit in, just as most teens are. Have you ever noticed that even the teens who want to be “different” usually hang out with kids who dress, talk, and act just like them? What’s with that, mate? How can you be an
outsider
if
everyone you hang with wears the same black clothing, black nail polish, black lipstick, and black eyeliner? Doesn’t that make you an
insider
instead?

Tattoos and piercings used to be a rebellious statement of rugged individualism. Now soccer moms in the grocery have tattoos and piercings. There has to be a better way to celebrate your individuality than following the same fads and trends as every mum at the mall, doesn’t there?

I’ve adopted an attitude that might work for you. I’ve decided that my beauty lies in my differences, in the fact that I’m not like everybody else. I’m uniquely me. Nobody will ever call me “average” or “just another guy.” I may not stand tall in a crowd, but I definitely stand out.

That attitude has served me well because I often draw strange reactions from children as well as adults when they see me for the first time. Kids tend to reckon I’m from another planet or I’m some sort of monster. Teens tend to have lurid imaginations so they assume I was maimed by an ax murderer or something equally gruesome. Adults leap to strange conclusions too. Often they suspect that I’m a mannequin or a Muppet.

Once when I was visiting relatives in Canada, they took me trick-or-treating for the very first time. They found a big scary old man mask that covered my entire body, and then they carried me door to door. At first we didn’t get much reaction from people, until we figured out that they didn’t think I was real. We finally realized this when a woman dropped some of my favorite lollies in my bag, and I said, “Thank you! Trick or treat!”

The woman shrieked and jumped backward. “There’s a child in there?” she screamed. “I thought you were carrying a doll!”

Well, I am pretty cute
, I thought.

When I’m feeling frisky, I’ve been known to take full advantage of my uniqueness. I love to cruise around shopping malls with my cousins and friends. One day a few years ago we were in a mall in
Australia when we spotted a window display for Bonds underwear, which is the Down Under version of Hanes or Jockey, a briefs brand that has been around for a long, long time.

The male mannequin was wearing a pair of Bonds “tighty whitey” underwear. He had a body just like mine: all head and torso, no limbs—and a nice six-pack of abs. I happened to be wearing my own Bond brand drawers, so my cousins and I decided that I too could serve as a window model. We went into the store. My cousins hoisted me into the window display case. I then took up a position next to the mannequin.

For the next five minutes, I baited mall rats. Whenever window shoppers stopped or glanced at me, I twitched, smiled, winked, or bowed—to their utter shock and horror! Of course, this bit of punking provoked uproarious laughter from my co-conspirators watching from outside the store. Afterward they made the case that if my public speaking career ever faltered, I could always find work as a department store dummy.

I’ve learned to laugh about my disabilities and the strange responses they provoke, but there is an even better method for overcoming doubts about your self-worth or your inability to love yourself as you are. Instead of dwelling on that pain within, reach out to ease someone else’s pain. Put your focus on someone else in need.

Volunteer at a soup kitchen. Raise money for orphans. Organize a benefit to help earthquake victims. Find sponsors who’ll donate money if you take part in a charity walk, or bike ride, or dance marathon. Rise up and reach out.

When I do that, I discover what is perhaps the best solution for anyone who has failed to turn on the light of love within.

If you can’t resolve your own issues, be the solution for someone
else. After all, it’s better to give than to receive, right? If you don’t love yourself, then give yourself away. If you do that, you’ll be amazed at how valuable you feel.

How do I know that? C’mon, mate, look at me. Look at my life. Do I seem like a happy and fulfilled person to you?

A nose job won’t bring you a life of joy. A Ferrari won’t make you admired by millions. You already have what it takes to be loved and valued; it’s just a matter of releasing and maximizing all that lies within you. You won’t always be perfect, and that’s perfectly fine. The idea isn’t to attain perfection in your lifetime; it’s to seek it.

You want to keep striving, keep growing, keep giving all you have to give so that, in the end, you can look back and say,
I gave it my best shot
.

Take a look in the mirror right now and say, “This is who I am, and I accept the challenge of becoming the best I can be.” You are beautiful because God created you for His purpose. Your challenge is to find that purpose, fuel it with hope, drive it on faith, and put your
you-niqueness
to the highest possible use.

Loving and accepting yourself is the only surefire cure for self-pity and victimhood. Drugs, alcohol, and promiscuity offer only temporary relief, and eventually they bring only more pain. When I came to see myself as a child of God and a part of His plan, my life was forever changed. You may not be a believer in Christ, but you can believe in your value and purpose on this planet.

My best advice for finding inner happiness is to reach outside yourself, to use your talents and brains and personality to make life better for someone else. I’ve been on the receiving end of that, and I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that it changed my life.

I was sixteen and a student at Runcorn State High School in Queensland. I usually had to wait an hour or so after school for my
ride home. Most days I’d hang out talking to other kids or to a great guy named Mr. Arnold. He wasn’t the principal or even a teacher. He was the school janitor. But Mr. Arnold was one of those people who glowed from within. He was so at peace with himself, so comfortable in his coveralls, that everyone respected him and enjoyed being around him.

Mr. Arnold could talk about any subject. He was spiritual and wise. On some days he led a Christian youth discussion at lunchtime. He invited me to join, even though I told him I wasn’t big into religion. But I liked him, and so I began attending their sessions.

Mr. Arnold encouraged kids to talk about their lives at these meetings, but I always turned down his invitations. “Come on, Nick, we’d like to hear your story,” he’d say. “We want to know more about you and what you’re thinking.”

For three months I refused. “I don’t have a story to tell,” I’d say.

Finally Mr. Arnold wore me down. The other kids were very open about their feelings and their experiences, so I finally consented to talk about my own at the next meeting. I was so nervous, I prepared note cards with bullet points. (Nerdy, I know.)

I wasn’t expecting to impress anyone. I just wanted to get through it and get out of there, or so I told myself. A part of me also wanted to show the other kids that I had the same feelings, hurts, and fears that they’d expressed.

For ten minutes that day I talked about what it was like to grow up without arms and legs. I told sad stories and funny stories too. I didn’t want to seem like a victim, so I talked about my victories. Since this was a Christian group, I did say that there had been times when I felt God had forgotten me, or that I’d been one of His rare mistakes. Then I explained how I’d gradually come to understand that maybe there was a plan for me that I just hadn’t figured out yet.

“I’m slowly learning to have more faith that I wasn’t a mistake,” I said, trying to get a laugh.

In truth, I was so relieved to get through my talk that I felt like crying. To my amazement, most of the kids in the room were crying instead.

“Was I that bad?” I asked Mr. Arnold.

“No, Nick,” he said. “You were that good.”

At first I thought he was just being nice and the kids in the group were pretending to be moved by my speech. They were Christians, after all. They were supposed to be nice.

But then one of the guys in the group invited me to speak to his church youth group. Then another invitation came from another kid for his Sunday school class. Over the next two years, I received dozens of invitations to share my story to church groups, youth organizations, and service clubs.

I had avoided Christian groups in high school because I didn’t want to be labeled as the do-gooder preacher’s kid who was all about religion. I acted tough and sometimes cursed so I could be accepted as a regular guy. The truth was that I had not yet accepted myself.

Obviously, God has a sense of humor. He wrangled me into speaking to just the group I had avoided, and it was there that He revealed my purpose in life. He showed me that even if I was not perfect, I had riches to share, blessings to lighten the burdens of others.

The same holds true for you. We share our imperfection. We need to share the beautiful gifts we’ve been given. Look inside. There is a light inside you just waiting to shine.

W
hen I created a company to handle my corporate speaking engagements, I named it Attitude Is Altitude because without a positive attitude I never would have been able to rise above my disabilities and reach so many people.

You may be tempted to scoff at the concept of “attitude adjustment” because it has become such a staple of motivational posters and coaching materials. But there is real power in controlling your attitude, adjusting it to counter moods and stop behaviors that may threaten your ability to live without limits. The psychologist and philosopher William James, who taught at Harvard University, said that one of the greatest discoveries of his generation was the realization that
by changing our attitudes, we can change our lives
.

Whether you are aware of it or not, you view the world through your own unique perspectives or attitudes based on your beliefs of what is good or bad, wrong or right, fair or unfair. Your decisions and actions are based on those attitudes, so if what you’ve been doing isn’t working, you have the power to adjust your attitude and change your life.

Think of your attitude as the remote control for your television set. If the program you are watching doesn’t do anything for you, then you simply grab the remote and change it. You can adjust your attitude in much the same way when you aren’t getting the results you want, no matter what challenges you encounter.

Linda, a music teacher, wrote and described how her amazing attitude
helped her overcome a childhood accident that easily could have ruined her life. She was only halfway through grade school when she was severely injured in a car accident. Linda spent two and a half days in a coma, and when she regained consciousness, she could not walk, talk, or eat.

Although doctors feared she would be mentally impaired and never able to speak or walk normally, her mind, speech, and body gradually recovered. In fact, Linda’s only remaining medical problem from the horrible accident is a damaged right eye that has only limited vision.

This woman suffered incredible pain, endured many operations, and still has impaired eyesight. She could easily feel victimized and bitter. You could hardly blame her for taking the attitude that life has treated her unfairly. Instead, this is the attitude she chose:

“Sometimes I am frustrated that my eyes don’t work in perfect unity with each other,” she wrote to me. “But then I remember where I came from and where I could be, and realize God saved me for a reason—to live as a witness to His work in my life. My eye is a reminder from God that I’m not perfect, but that’s okay; I need to depend fully on Him for my strength. God chose to show His power through the weakness of my eye—though I am weak, He is strong.”

Linda chose to accept her imperfect vision as part of God’s “perfect plan for my life,” she wrote. “He changed my attitude toward life—I know that mine may very well end at any moment, so I’m trying to live for Him all the time. Also, I try to always put a positive spin on everything, try to give my all to God and others, and truly care about the people around me.”