The Chair is a Beginning

The wheelchair. The one that you’ve parked in the corner or next to your bed. 

The thing that everyone calls an end; a failure; a step backwards. 

They’re wrong. All of them.

The sore arms? The blisters? The burned thumbs? Those are the signs of a beginning. It’s the symbols of something new being created; sign posts that lead to something greater. Sore arms become strength and distance; blisters become callouses and independence; skinned thumbs fit firmly in the eyes of those who said you would never do more.

The chair is a beginning.