Being okay with accepting help

In 2011, my business partner and I were asked to travel to Calgary for a meeting with senior client representatives.

We had been working on a high profile project for the past couple of years, and asked to present our work. The stakes were high.

It had been five years since being diagnosed with MS. With no effective medication available at that time, the disease had been working its insidious magic. I had developed foot drop as the signals from my spine weren’t making it to my feet to lift them when I walked.

It was the first day that I was using a walking cane outside of my house, my office, or among people I knew well. No one outside of the core group were aware of my MS diagnosis.

I had been dreading entering the room in front of the senior leaders with a cane for a month. At that moment, it felt like all of the heads in the room looked at me and then my cane.

As the meeting wore on, I could sense that people were curious about my cane. The words my business partner had said to me flashed into my head, “Rahul, you need to own it.”

After a break, I looked around the room and said, “I use the cane because I have MS.” I got some nods and we moved on with the meeting.

A few minutes later, a building manager popped her head through the door and said, “just to let you know, today, we are testing the fire alarms. When the fire alarm goes off, please calmly get up, go to the stairwell, go down the 42 flights of stairs and meet outside at the muster station. Please don’t use the elevators.”

Fantastic. Today, of all days.

The senior client representative in the room looked at me. I could tell she was reading my mind. Karen said, “When the alarm bell goes off, get on my back and I’ll carry you down the stairs.” I smiled at her and chuckled. She didn’t laugh.

I believed she would have carried me down those stairs. The mental image I had was of Karen, a well-respected senior leader with stylish shoes carrying me down 42 flights of stairs on her back. Oddly enough, the alarm bell didn’t go off on the 42nd floor that day.

It was the first day that I thought this new life might be okay. In the 15 years since then, many offers of help, like Karen’s, have happened. Not all proposed extraordinary feats of strength. But people offering or actually going outside of their comfort zone to lend a hand.

Kindness is all around you. Most people want to help you succeed. Not pity, but a genuine interest in you. It’s not every person out there, but I’ve discovered that it is common.

Accepting help is not a sign of weakness, or giving up. Accepting help allows you to live a better life. To use your limited energy for more interesting activities. Reducing your level of frustration. Building the community around you that gets to use their skills, gifts, and strength to meaningfully help someone else, often adding value to their own life.

People have told me that they want to help others, but are nervous, as they don’t want to offend someone. Don’t be nervous. It comes down to intent, which you convey through your words, actions, and body language. More than you realize.

I suggest you follow three simple steps:

Ask first: how can I help?

Respect independence.

Provide practical help if requested.

Go Team Kindness!