There’s this guy, Gordon. He’s an older guy, maybe about 60 years old.
Years ago, when he was about 20 years old, Gordon was in a big car accident. He lost the use of most of his body, and he had brain damage that made him completely unable to speak. Not as in “speech impaired” — as in couldn’t even mouth the words, “My name is Gordon.”
Gordon went through years of physical therapy, and regained most of his day-to-day physical ability to get around. He probably doesn’t run too many marathons, and the way he holds himself might look a little stiff, but I wouldn’t think twice about asking him to walk a couple blocks to the store to pick up some milk.
As for the speech part, Gordon went through some speech therapy, enough to regain most of the speech he needed for day-to-day life. But he decided that wasn’t enough. He wanted it all back. So he started going to Toastmasters meetings. A couple a week, week after week, year after year. He’s been doing that now for at least 25 years.
When you first meet Gordon, there’s almost no sign any of this ever happened to him. Sure, maybe something about his brain is still just a little off, just enough to make you think, “Huh, is it just me, or does this guy seem a little eccentric.” But in a room of above-average people, Gordon is more articulate than most of them. And in a room of rockingly articulate, elite people like the Sandpiper Toastmasters, Gordon is one of the most interesting and entertaining speakers.
It’s so easy to forget that at one point in his life, this guy had everything stripped away, and he couldn’t even stand on his own or say hello. In the decades that followed, he must have conducted an only-God-can-understand-what-is-under-the-covers campaign to regain what he had lost.
After he told me this story, I told him I was looking for a job, and really enjoyed this particular Toastmasters club and hoped to find work in the area, because I’d like to be back to attend the club’s weekly meetings as a regular member.
Gordon looked me in the eye and said, “If that’s what you want, then you make it happen.”
When some random person on the street says, “Make it happen,” you think, “Yeah, thanks for the pep talk.” But when someone like Gordon says, “Make it happen,” you can feel your gut realign itself, and you just do.
Thanks, Gordon. Six months ago you told me to make it happen, and I still wake up every day and strive to live your words.