The Weight of Acceptance: Say Hello to My Yellow Friend
New Feature: Click here and listen to this week’s post on my new Substack webpage– The (Dis)Abled Writer.
And then, behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, the young man driving the shuttle for “elderly” and “disabled” folks—transporting us from the soccer field where my son was playing to the distant parking lot—took a long look at me and said, “No.”
“But I’m disabled,” I confessed, my voice a mix of defiance, shock, and vulnerability.
The driver tilted his head and crossed his arms, “Really?”
I pointed toward Cindy, who was pushing my walker up the dirt path. “That’s my walker. And that’s my wife. Ask her.”
From her seat in the shuttle, a woman with curly white hair and a gold cross hanging around her neck jumped in, “He’s telling the truth.” The driver glanced up into the rearview mirror. “I saw him using that yellow walker,” she added, as if her apparent religious devotion held the weight of celestial Truth.
He sized me up one last time, then sighed. “Okay. Hop in.”
Now is a appropriate time to introduce you to heavy duty, off-roading yellow walker, Mr. Mikado (Me–Kaa– Do).
Traditionally, the term “Mikado” refers to the Emperor of Japan, a figure cloaked in history and mystique. In 19th-century Western literature, “Mikado” became a shorthand for the Japanese monarchy, especially before the country underwent modernization.
In ancient Japan, yellow was more than just a color–it was a symbol of nobility, power and strength, often reserved for the Mikado himself.
As we drove up the hill, passing Cindy and Mr. Mikado, the driver leaned in, his voice dropping. “Look, um–I’m sorry about that.”
“I get it,” I said, “I’m young and handsome.”
He smiled, “Again, I’m really sorry.”
Mr. Mikado arrived on my doorstep on a sweltering August morning. I hadn’t mentioned him before because, in a way, I didn’t want to face the hard, daily truth: my disease is progressing, and I’m increasingly reliant on that walker.
I have a growing sense that for readers, my weekly letter is a 500-word morsel of inspiration, hope, and perspective. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t share that my reliance on Mr. Mikado has been emotionally challenging for me.
My other mobility aid, Clark Able, made the cover of Ordinary Hero.
It’s funny how a simple object can carry so much weight. Mr. Mikado’s factory instructions say he only weighs 35 pounds, but to me, he feels like he’s 135. Maybe that’s because every time I push him, I’m also pushing the unseen burden of who I used to be and who I am now.
I write about resilience and finding light in dark places, and I genuinely believe those words. But the truth is, there are days when I feel the heaviness of that reliance—the way it can make me feel less like myself. Mr. Mikado is a constant reminder that life is different now.
Yet, there’s a certain beauty in that struggle. It compels me to redefine strength, revealing that it can coexist with vulnerability. Accepting help is, in itself, an act of courage. Each push of Mr. Mikado reminds me of the support I have from Cindy, Mr. Mikado, and others who stand by me, cheering me on—like the stirring chant of my favorite soccer team, Liverpool: “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”
Cindy and me and Mr. Mikado ( in the back, in between us) at a Liverpool game.
So, while Mr. Mikado may be a symbol of my dependence, he’s also a bridge to new perspectives—an opportunity to find strength in what I once saw as weakness.
And in sharing this with you, I hope to convey that navigating my life’s complexities with Mr. Mikado provides you with strength to carry, or push, your own burdens up a steep path.
Be well,
Jay
Are you writer? Are you looking for writing advice or writing tactics that you can help guide you on your writing journey?
One, Line, One Love: Episode 38: A Creative Conversation Between Two Everyday Writers
In this episode of One Line, One Love, Gail and Jay react to Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of the iconic adult cartoon South Park, as they share insights into their writing process and how to transform anecdotes into compelling stories. Gail and Jay discuss how storytelling doesn’t have to be complicated–it just needs the right ingredients. If you’re a writer eager to deepen your understanding of storytelling, this episode is a must-listen!
Book Sale Link
Warm greetings to everyone who found me on the University of Pennsylvania’s Ataxia Clinic’s website! Thanks for stopping by. I have ataxia and though I’m not a doctor, I hope my words comfort, encourage, empower, and serve as good company on your journey.
Jay Armstrong is a speaker and an award-winning author. Despite being diagnosed with a rare neurological disease, that impairs his movement, balance, eyesight, and speech–Jay presses on. The leader of the Philadelphia Ataxia Support Group, he hopes to help you find joy, peace, and meaning in life.
