The amazing Sean Stephenson…selected excerpts and comment about his life from his book.
Get Off YOUR “But”
When Sean Stephenson speaks people listen and he connects. He is an author and speaker and is afflicted with Osteogenesis Imperfecta.
“Most parents pray that their baby will come out with all ten toes and ten fingers. And I did! Except they were all broken. …My arms and legs flopped around like a rag doll’s. The crown of my head was not just mildly misshapen from the pressure of the birth canal; it looked like a deformed piece of Silly Putty. As the doctors would soon learn, almost every bone in my tiny body had been crushed from the stress of being born. …I was not a happy camper. My cries were not those of a fussy baby in need of a quick poopy-diaper change, but blood-curdling cries of pain. I like to say now that I was being considerate—I cried during only two long periods of the day: when the sun was up and when it was down.
…To most kids Halloween meant candy, parties, and wearing costumes. To me, Halloween was real magic—a disappearing act. Every day of my life—my entire life—I had been stared at because I looked so different. Strangers would point, scowl, and sometimes even laugh at my appearance. No matter what time I left my house or where I was, I couldn’t escape it. The one thing I wanted so badly to do as a child was just put on a baseball cap, mix into a crowd of people, and disappear. That, however, was never an option…
Except on Halloween!
On this Halloween morning, when I was nine years old, Mom finished packing my lunch and was taking my stuff out to the car. I was so excited, I just couldn’t keep still. I was going as a mummy; and, already wearing my costume, I started rolling around on the floor out of my chair.
‘Oh,’ I thought to myself, ‘I look so good! I can’t wait to show this off to my friends.’
I rolled all over the floor, filled with joy and impatient to get going…and then my left leg caught on the corner of the door frame and bent back. Snap!
The world stood still. I knew what would happen next. There was always a delay between hearing the snap and feeling the pain. In a fraction of a second it felt as though my whole life came crumbling down.
I’d broken my femur, the big bone in my thigh. My temperature began to rise, and sweat burned into my eyes. My breathing became ragged. It felt as if somebody had put a vise on the bone and was twisting it, tighter and tighter.
As if the pain weren’t enough, white-hot anger exploded in my mind. It coursed through my veins and drilled right to my heart. This was not fair! I was being punished for a crime I had never committed.
So I let out a blood-curdling scream.
‘Why MEEEEEEEEEEEE? What did I ever do to deserve this?’
…As the years went by, I racked up bone fractures like other boys racked up Boy Scout merit badges. We lost count after two hundred. And the broken bones derailed more than just Halloween. They canceled vacations, sleepovers, talent shows, science fairs, and hundreds of school days.”
Sean became highly educated and became buddies with famous people. People like President Bill Clinton. Do you think that Sean had influence and connected with people? Absolutely! Do you think he felt the pain other people felt when they were alone, frightened, and giving up? Absolutely!
One time Sean was on a bus and just being friendly to the bus driver. The driver explained to Sean why he was thinking of taking his own life (the reasons why) until the conversation he had with Sean [not included here].
“I thought, What did I do? I just sat on his bus and asked him questions about himself and teased him a little. I was just trying to be a nice person. I didn’t burst into a burning building and risk my life to save him or anything.
This experience puzzled me for years. Then one day, when I was in my early twenties, I was sitting in a seminar listening to a highly regarded professional speaker. He was sharing great information, and he was obviously very intelligent. Nevertheless, the audience was restless, fidgeting, and bored—a woman sitting near me had actually fallen asleep. It was painfully obvious that no one was able to pay attention. I knew that the information he wanted to communicate was valuable, so why didn’t anyone feel compelled to listen?
Suddenly, it came to me! He simply lacked the one component that must exist in order for one human being to feel emotionally moved, inspired, and safe with another human being: the ability to make a connection. I made an earthshaking distinction: communication is merely an exchange of information, but connection is an exchange of our humanity.”
Some people just “naturally” inspire us to go forth and stand through their example!
