Letter from a Friend

One of my colleagues took a few swim lessons with Beth earlier this year. Other than that, he has spoken to her once or twice when she and I have met up for lunch at my office. Although he doesn't know Beth well, he was moved to write her this letter, which I read to her on Saturday. She was so touched and inspired by it that she asked if I would put it up on the blog because she felt that it could help other people, too. I asked him, and he agreed. So here it is. Thanks for sharing your words and your eloquence, Carl!

***************************************************************

Dear Beth,

I am so sorry to hear about your recent mishap and want you to know that my heart goes out to you. I’ve only taken a few of your swim classes, but in that short period sensed that you have a kind heart and a big soul. (And Linda might have mentioned some of your kind attributes also. ;) After hearing the news, and following the blog, I have thought and felt much about what you are going through. I wanted to throw out some words in hopes that they might help. Please take care and be strong.

I’ve only read / heard stories about your lifetime career of feats and accomplishments. But I get the feeling that you have the will to take on any obstacle and enjoy overcoming it. You have worked and struggled harder than you ever thought was possible. You have trained your mind, body and soul to endure immense pain, to keep moving when your body screams to stop, and to win. Not to defeat others. But to find you. To truly see who you are. You have seen that beautiful, quiet space that exists between pain and happiness, success and compassion. This is a glorious place that few people know.

And now you have been thrust into what probably feels like the world turned completely upside-down. It is the beginning of the hardest challenge / obstacle that you have ever faced. The course unfolding in front of you winds through strange and scary landscapes, the equipment cold and unfeeling, the language bizarre to say the least, and your training beyond excruciating. But don’t forget, please don’t forget, this is what you have trained for. You have been here before. You have looked out over the chasm and felt the pain and fear that you are feeling now. Remember, your mind, body and spirit know what to do. They have overcome this chasm before. They know hope, and they know how to heal. They know how to find their way back to that glorious space.

And in time you will also begin to see through all of these new markers. The street in front of your house will take on the dimensions of a football field. Every little success will transform into a massive accomplishment. You will rejoice over things that you once took for granted. And most importantly your new heroes will become the world around you. It will be the woman in the grocery store at midnight, bags under her eyes, getting her medicine. You don’t hear cheering or clapping, but if you look deeper, you will see the immense crowd reflected in her eyes. Friends, loved ones, and sometimes even total strangers. And that smile you give her, will be the best medicine she has ever been given. After all of these illusions melt away, you will find that beautiful space again. But this time, since you have changed and grown and endured, you will stay in that wonderful space. That is when you will know, we are all here with you. I look forward to seeing you in the pool and out on the trails again soon.

Carl

“You can survive 30 days without food and 3 days without water, but you won’t last 30 seconds without hope.”

Sean Swarner (First cancer survivor to summit Everest)