Excuse Me, But Nothing Just Happens

Six years ago, my left lung collapsed.

When I woke up in the recovery room with tube in my chest,
the first thing I did was ask the surgeon why this happened to me.

He said it was spontaneous.

Spontaneous. Really. That’s your diagnosis? That’s the best
you can do? Surely there must a more biological reason behind this physically
traumatic episode.

Not really. It just happens, he said.

Excuse me, but nothing just happens. Especially not the
sudden failure of my primary respiratory function.

So instead of accepting what the doctor said, I spent the
next week in the hospital making a diagnosis of my own.

My lung collapsed because I got too successful, too fast,
too early. My lung collapsed because I didn’t have a healthy relationship with
my breath. My lung collapsed because I allowed my career to take priority over
my health. My lung collapsed because I didn’t possess the physical, emotional
and mental constitution to manage my own chaotic life.

I told myself a lie because I knew the truth wouldn’t be
enough for me to change.

And it was the best decision I ever made.

Sometimes dishonesty is the best diagnosis.


What are you unwilling to accept?


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Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Writing, Publishing, Performing, Consulting


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