I've been having big sweeping dreams the last few nights, long arcs of intricate storyline, almost all of which immediately sink back into oblivion as soon as I open my eyes. But I remember Adele. We were planning a music video together where all the actors were people with some kind of physical difference, which, if you think about it, is everybody. It wasn't a 'look at these people, they have a disability and yet CAN DO THINGS just like you and me, how AMAZING!' type patronising drivel. It was a celebration of the unique, unpredictable, diverse, colourful, unfathomable variety that is the human species. I bet half the fortune I have yet to earn that Adele would so be up for that.
I don't know what your limitations are, but I do know that mine feel, um, limiting. I struggle against them, struggle against everything about them. Which has yet to do anything but wear me out, and it shames me that I am still doing this at 40. I believe we all have choices, but I also believe that they're not all the same and some people have less than others. Sometimes much less. However hard I wish it otherwise, some things are beyond my reach, even some things that used to be within my reach. Which strikes me down with grief some days. I'm not a fan of Pollyanna, but how about this instead? How about embracing the imperfections, seizing the limitations?
All my life I have felt like a big clumsy bull in a very cluttered china shop whose only hope of not smashing something is to stay as still and small as possible. This feels as equally true as it sounds melodramatic. And I am not quite sure how it relates to a young artist who learns that permanent nerve damage in his hands means he can never draw a straight line, so he draws squiggly lines instead, but I will figure it out.
I like what Ghandi said: whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.