I had to sit on a wheelchair. They said it’s hospital policy. Even when I could walk and the ward was just next door. I had to sit on a wheelchair.
It was an exercise in trust. A lesson in humility. A reminder of our human frailty. Sitting in that wheelchair, it felt like I was abdicating control of myself. I lost power over me.
Letting go actually takes great effort. You don’t know what will happen. You no longer hold sovereignty. How the next moment plays out is dependent on what the other does or does not do.
Sitting in a wheelchair was a very interesting experience for me. While I was trying to tell the orderly that I was fine and I could walk, a part of me wanted to sit on the wheelchair. I wanted to not have to think, not have to make an effort, and instead pass the reins onto someone else.
Paradoxically, I wanted to be responsible and yet not have to be responsible for my own life. It was a distinctly odd experience. A study in contradiction.
I didn’t know a wheelchair could teach me so many things.