The smallest experience can change your perspective.

It was about 1:00 a.m. I was 13 hours into a 24 hour race called World's Toughest Mudder with about 1000 people. It was cold, dark, wet, and I was mentally locked in survival mode in a push for an invigorating sunrise. I was taking my turn at the top of a wall, helping others climb it. The wall was muddy and starting to freeze as temperatures dropped. It's customary on obstacles that can't be completed alone to receive help and then stay to help a few behind you. So, there I sat, about ten feet up on top of a wall, reaching down to grab the hands of those coming up.  That's when it happened.

I reached down to help the next person and there was no hand. I blinked a couple of times to clear the mud and water from my eyes, assuming that I just didn't see the extended hand. In that moment, the person at the bottom, who was holding the climber on his shoulders, started yelling at me to hurry up, and the climber started yelling, "Just grab me!" I didn't know what to do because he didn't have a hand. Or a forearm. Just a short nub below his elbow. I froze for what felt like an eternity, but was maybe 2 seconds, while the climber's headlamp was shining in my face as he waited, staring at me.

I wasn't sure about the appropriate course of action but we were in crisis mode and action was required. What was acceptable? What would work? Could I ask a question? All pretense was set aside. All worry about sensitivity was set aside. I just asked the guy, "What do I grab?" "Grab the nub and use it like a handle," was the immediate reply. OK. He flexed his arm, I grabbed him, and pulled him up. He thanked me, smiled with a look of understanding, patted me on the head with his nub, and moved on up the 40-foot high cargo net that was next. I didn't see him again. The whole scene took maybe 30 seconds.

In reflection after the race, I realized how much I was disconnected from an entire community of people. Not only was I unfamiliar with their challenges but if I was honest with myself, I was harboring some unconscious biases. In this case, shared crisis allowed us to move quickly to solve the problem at hand, but it was an introduction to a whole new world. It was a learning moment for me that was the first step of a still ongoing journey and contributed to me introducing a community service project the next year to help the physically disabled.

We need to live in each moment and strive to be aware of the lessons being presented to us each day. The smallest experience can change your perspective forever.