My Unlikely Inspiration
The GSB is inspirational, almost to a fault. Throughout my two years here, I have been energized by guests who have filled auditoriums, featured in case studies, and launched unicorns; CEOs, Vice Presidents of the United States, and star athletes. Recently, however, I’ve found inspiration in the most unlikely place — from my physical therapist.
After injuring my shoulder surfing and my hip while hiking, I have been going to physical therapy regularly since last year. I have worked with a number of therapists in this time, but recently changed over to one who we’ll call George. During our first session, a patient of George’s walked by and asked him about his latest test results. George, a gregarious, older gentleman with a penchant for quirky short-sleeve button shirts, looked up and responded, “Things are looking good!” They talked a little more; I tuned out.
When the patient left, George disclosed, “He was asking me about my cancer test results.” When I heard the “C-word,” I tuned back in. “My god, I am so sorry to hear that,” I responded. Throughout the rest of the session, George told me how he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. “The same as Steve Jobs?” I asked. “No, even more rare and deadly. The survival rate is 6%.”
I couldn’t believe George was still coming to work. If I were in his position, I’d be counting my days, grimly checking off my bucket list. Instead, George was helping cure me and others of non life-threatening pain — and doing it with a smile, without any self-pity. George gave me goosebumps — a cancer patient relieving muscle and joint soreness; the ultimate wounded healer. The discomfort in my hip and shoulder seemed to melt away in the face of George’s affliction — but what inspired me even more was his attitude. “I enjoy my life and I’m not going to let this get in the way. Somebody has to be in the 6% and it’s going to be me.” His words of optimism weren’t rehearsed, feel-good mantras. They came from within. They were his core, his essence.
In that short exchange, George taught me more than I have learned in entire classes. He taught me the importance of considering how we show up. We make a choice in every moment, in every conversation. We choose how we present ourselves and how we come off. He embodied the idea that everyone is facing a battle, big or small. He reminded me of the importance of purpose — getting out of bed in the morning, even when facing your final days. And he showed me how much we stand to miss in life when we aren’t present.
I was tuned out at the beginning of my first session with George, treating him like any other Uber driver or cashier, not making an effort. We all do it — making a connection is tiring, the upside unclear. Yet, by disengaging, we miss out. Not every moment will be big, but every once in a while, we might stumble on a George.
