Everyone poops. It’s such a widely accepted first-day fact, they wrote a book about it. I’m almost 40-years old and I have to let someone know when I have to use the restroom. I’m also a husband, father, writer, and entrepreneur. You don’t need to have a terminal disease to learn the benefits of allowing others to help you succeed.
Batman had Robin. Butch Cassidy had the Sundance Kid. Hell, Walter White and Jesse Pinkman had their differences but in the end, they needed each other. The point is that every great hero needs a little help from time to time.
Accepting help is not that unlike the act of offering help. The ability to do either seems to be ingrained in our DNA. We all know people that are overly generous or helpful. They are the ones that offer to pick you up at the airport. Or always offer to help you move.
It’s so kind and selfless, it can be downright annoying.
We also know people that tend to be in crisis mode. They’re always a little messy, a little behind schedule, but always willing to accept the help they need.
No matter where your DNA puts you on the spectrum, take it from me — it takes a lot more strength to accept help than it does to offer it.
I have been living with ALS for nearly a decade. For those unfamiliar with the disease, I’ll save you the Google search. It robs its victims of the ability to walk, talk, eat, and ultimately breathe. Life expectancy after diagnosis is 2–5 years. Sounds tasty, right?
The reason I’m certain that it takes real strength to accept help from others is that I need help to do just about anything. Plus, I’m mentally strong. I breathe through a ventilator. I get around in a 250 lb wheelchair. I eat through a tube. I know what you’re thinking — “This guy’s Ironman.”
While that is true, I would be dead if I let my pride be my sidekick. Literally, I would die. I would love to be able to poop without two other people in the room. Almost as much as I wish that I could drive so my wife didn’t always have to be the family chauffeur.
The hard part about accepting help comes down to two factors: Timing and vulnerability.
Now is Not a Good Time
When we attempt new things, no matter if it’s doing your own taxes or joining the Crossfit revolution, there’s an unfamiliarity that resides within us — typically in the pit of your stomach. No matter how small your ego might be, no one likes the feeling of being unable to perform.
Think about the last time you tried something completely new. Was it in front of others? Or was it a solo project? Either way, the timing of needing help from someone never seems to be right.
You finally decided to do your own taxes. But no matter how simple that TurboTax commercial made it look, you can’t make it work. The options are to call tech support or call your brother who works in finance and actually enjoys it. Which would you do?
It’s a new year and you’ve been carrying around the Covid 15 (lbs) for too long. You finally give in to your friend’s pressure and join a Crossfit gym. You’re nervous, but you played sports growing up and feel pretty confident that you can flip tires.
Ten minutes into your first class, you’re regretting your decision. What are they talking about? What the hell is a burpie? Do you go running for the door? Or do you ask for help? The timing is the issue. When do you ask for someone to explain the lingo barrier?
Take the stuff that you do every day. The most simple and mundane tasks. The stuff like brushing your teeth or driving to work. Imagine if you needed help for either one of Those activities?
Welcome to my world.
It was not easy losing the ability to do absolutely everything. But one of the very few benefits of a degenerative disease like ALS, is that it slowly takes away your physical abilities. Unlike a spinal cord injury, I don’t remember the last time I walked because it wasn’t a surprise or sudden loss.
That means that unlike doing your own taxes or taking up Crossfit, I got the benefit of time to learn how to ask for and accept help. I wouldn’t recommend following directly in my footsteps to realize that the timing of accepting help is always going to feel uncomfortable. You have to make the choice to allow help.
I don’t like the way this makes me feel
It’s a word the very mention of which can send uncomfortable feelings down the spine of the strongest superhero. It is the centerpiece of the work of one of my favorite human beings, best-selling author Brene Brown. The word is vulnerability. And it’s the second element to finding the power of accepting help.
Brown defines vulnerability as uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. It’s simple and brilliant.
It seems like men typically have a harder time accepting help. This is probably because most men see needing help, let alone asking for help as a clear sign of weakness. The next time you feel weak, fellas, just remember that Brown says that vulnerability is not weakness, it’s our greatest measure of courage.
As a man with ALS, I had to get real comfortable with feeling vulnerable. If I fought the feeling, I have no doubt that I would be dead. From the very first time I was slid into a MRI machine like a human Hot Pocket, I had to give up being in control. I had to allow others to help me get through it.
As the disease progressed, I had to become more comfortable accepting help for everything. You talk about feeling vulnerable, imagine needing your date to not only feed you, but cut your food too. I remember the looks from others and how uncomfortable it felt.
That was tough. Until I recognized how strong it took to even choose to go to a restaurant. If I wasn’t going to let the disease take control of my life, why would I let strangers control my feelings?
Those were tough obstacles to overcome on my journey. However, the ultimate example of getting vulnerable while needing help makes those challenges seem like a walk in the park! It is something that everyone does. By themselves. It rhythms with stoop.
Poop! If you want to really test your limits. Let your partner wipe your butt!
Okay, maybe that’s too far for you. But the next time you need help, try to remember that the timing will never feel right and that getting comfortable with feeling vulnerable is the easiest way to show courage!