Life Without Limits

by Nick Vujicic

  Then one day all the alarms went off and the teachers told us to get under our desks! I thought aliens were attacking, but it was just a disaster drill for earthquakes. Earthquakes?

  Of course I got the usual nervous glances, rude questions, and odd comments about my lack of limbs. I could not believe how curious American middle-school kids were about how I managed in the restroom. I prayed for an earthquake, just to stop the endless interrogations about my toilet tactics.

  I had to adjust also to the constant shuffle from class to class. Back in Australia all my subjects were taught in one room. We didn’t move around all day like kangaroos in the outback. At Lindero Canyon Middle School, it seemed like all we did was hop from one classroom to the next.

  I was not handling this major life change very well. I’d always been a good student, but I quickly fell behind in my new school. They had no room in the regular sixth-grade classes so they’d put me in an advanced studies program, but my grades were retreating. Looking back, I can see that I was just stressed out. And why wouldn’t I have been? My whole life had been packed up and transported across the globe.

  We didn’t even have our own house anymore. My father was working for Uncle Batta, and we were living with him and his family in their big house until we found our own. I didn’t see much of my parents because they were busy finding work, commuting to work, or looking for a place to live.

  I hated it. I was overwhelmed, mentally, emotionally, and physically. So I made like a turtle and withdrew into my shell. During recess and lunch hours, I went off on my own, sometimes hiding behind the bushes near the playground. My favorite hideout, though, was in one of the music rooms overseen by Mr. McKagan, the band and music teacher.

  Mr. McKagan, who is still on the staff at Lindero Canyon, is a terrific teacher. He was so popular, he was like a rock star at the school, teaching (I think) eight or nine classes a day. His brother Duff is a legendary bass guitarist who has played with Guns N’ Roses and other top rock bands. That was another strange aspect of moving from Australia to California. I felt like we’d left a perfectly normal family existence and landed in some surreal pop culture kingdom. We lived just outside Los Angeles and Hollywood, so we were always bumping into movie stars and television stars in the grocery store or at the mall. Half my classmates were aspiring or working actors. After school, I could turn on the television and watch a nice guy from my history class, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, ham it up on the popular television show Home Improvement.

  My life had been altered in so many ways, I was simply overwhelmed. I’d lost all the confidence I’d worked so hard to build. My Australian classmates had accepted me, but in America I was a stranger in a strange land with a strange accent and an even stranger body. Or at least that’s how I felt. Mr. McKagan saw that I was hiding out in his music rooms, and he tried to encourage me to go out and mix with the other students. But I just couldn’t get motivated.

  I was fighting a change I couldn’t control instead of focusing on what I could adjust, my attitude and my actions. Really, I should have known better. I was only twelve years old, but I’d already learned to focus on my abilities instead of my disabilities. I’d accepted my lack of limbs and I’d managed to become a pretty happy and self-sufficient kid. But this move threw me for a loop.

  Have you ever noticed that when you enter into one of those major transitional periods in your life, your senses seem heightened? When you go through a bad breakup, doesn’t every movie and television show seem to have a hidden message aimed at you? Don’t all the songs on the radio seem to be about your very own aching heart? Those heightened emotions and senses may be survival tools triggered when you are stressed or thrown into unfamiliar situations. They put you on high alert, and they can be valuable.

  I still remember that as distressed as I was about leaving Australia, I always found peace and comfort gazing at the mountains or watching the sun set on the beach in my new environment. I still think California is a beautiful place, but it seemed even more beautiful then.

  Whether positive or negative, change can be a powerful and scary experience, which is why your first reaction may be to fight it. When I took business classes in college, I learned that most major corporations have executives who are the designated “change agents.” Their job is to rally reluctant employees behind big transitions, whether it’s a merger, or a new division, or a new way of doing business.

  As the president of my own business, I’ve learned that each employee has his or her own way of dealing with new initiatives or alterations in our mission. There will always be a few people who get excited about new experiences, but mostly people resist because they are comfortable with the status quo, or they fear their lives will change for the worse.

  CHANGE RESISTANT

  Everyone knows nothing stays the same forever, but strangely, when outside events or other people force us out of our comfort zones, we often become fearful and insecure. Sometimes we grow angry and resentful. Even when people are in a bad situation—a violent relationship, a dead-end job, or a dangerous environment—they often refuse to take a new path because they would rather deal with the known than the unknown.

  I recently met George, a physical therapist and fitness coach. I told him that I was having a problem with my back and that I needed some exercises to strengthen it but I couldn’t get motivated to work out because I was so busy traveling and running my company. George’s response was classic: “Hey, if you want to deal with that pain getting worse and worse for the rest of your life, good luck to you.”

  He mocked me! I felt like giving George a head butt. But then I realized he was motivating me, forcing me to deal with the fact that if I was not willing to adjust my lifestyle, I would pay the consequences.

  He was saying, Nick, you don’t have to change if you don’t feel like it, but the only person who can help your back feel better is you.

  I was a good example of a bad example with my resistance to a lifestyle adjustment. But people in far worse circumstances resist moves that would greatly improve their lives. Often they are afraid to give up even terrible situations if it means shifting into an unfamiliar situation. And many people refuse to accept responsibility for their own lives. President Barack Obama stressed the importance of personal responsibility when he said, “We are the change we have been waiting for.” But some people fight the tide, even when it threatens to drown them.

  For some people, taking responsibility is a lot more daunting than taking a pass. When life deals you a card that ruins your hand and upsets your plans, you can blame the universe, your parents, and the kid who stole your sandwich in the third grade. But in the end, blaming does nothing for you. Taking responsibility is the only way to master the detours and shifting conditions along your life’s path. My experiences have taught me that making a positive change has five necessary stages.

  1. Recognizing the need to change

  Sadly, we are often slow to recognize the need to make a move. We settle into a routine, even if it isn’t all that comfortable, and we choose inaction over action simply out of laziness or fear. Often it takes something really scary to make us recognize that we need a new plan. My attempted suicide was one such moment for me. I had been hanging on for years, putting on a brave face most of the time, but inside I was haunted by dark thoughts that if I could not change my body, I’d end my life. When I reached the point where I nearly let myself drown, I recognized it was time to take responsibility for my own happiness.

  2. Envisioning something new

  A friend of mine, Ned, recently had the sad task of convincing his parents to move out of their home of forty years and into a senior living center, a nursing home. His father’s health was failing, and the burden of caring for him had endangered his mother’s life too. His parents did not want to move. They preferred to stay in their home, surrounded by neighbors they knew. “We are happy here. Why would we leave?” they said.

  Ned talked it over with his parents for more than a
year before he convinced them to visit a very nice senior citizens community just a few blocks from their home. They’d formed an image of “old folks’ homes” as cold and dreary places where “old people go to die.” Instead, they found a clean, warm, and lively place where many of their former neighbors were living and enjoying active days. It had a medical clinic staffed with doctors and nurses and therapists who could take over some of the care for Ned’s father that had weighed so heavily on his mother.

  Once his parents had a vision of the new place, they agreed to move there. “We never thought it could be so nice,” they said.

  If you have difficulty moving from where you are to where you need to go, it may help to get a clear vision of where the move will take you. This may mean scouting out a location, trying new relationships, or shadowing someone in a career you might want to pursue. Once you are more familiar with the new place, it will be easier to leave the old one.

  3. Letting go of the old

  This is a tough stage for many people. Imagine you are climbing a rock wall in the mountains. You are halfway up the wall, hundreds of feet above the valley floor. You have just come to a small ledge. It’s scary, and you know you would be vulnerable if the wind picked up or a storm moved in, but on that ledge you have at least some sense of security.

  The problem is that to keep moving up, or even to head back down, you have to abandon the security of that ledge and reach for another hold. Letting go of that sense of security, however tenuous, is the challenge, whether you are rock climbing or taking a new path in life. You have to release your hold on the old and grab on to the new. Many people freeze at this stage, or they start to make the move but then get scared and chicken out. If you find yourself in this situation, think of yourself as climbing a ladder. To move to the next rung, you must give up your grip and reach for the next one. Release, reach, and raise yourself up, one rung at a time!

  4. Getting settled

  This can be another tricky stage for people. They may have let go of the old and moved up to the new, but until they attain a certain comfort level, they can still be tempted to go running back. It’s the Okay, I’m here, now what? stage.

  The key to settling in is to be very careful about the thoughts that play out in your head. You have to screen out panic-mode thoughts like Oh my gosh, what did I do? and focus forward along the lines of This is a great adventure!

  In my first few months in the United States as a boy, I struggled with the acceptance stage mightily. I spent many days and nights twitching uncomfortably in my bed, fretting about my new environment. I hid out from other students, fearing rejection and mockery. But slowly, gradually, I came to enjoy certain aspects of my new home. For one thing, I had cousins here too; I just hadn’t known them as well as my cousins back in Australia. My American cousins turned out to be great people. Then there were the beach and the mountains and the desert, all within easy reach.

  Then, just as I began to think maybe California USA wasn’t so bad, my parents decided to return to Australia. When I got older and finished college, I moved right back to California. Now, it feels like home to me!

  5. Keep growing

  This is the best stage of making a successful transition. You’ve made the leap, and now it’s time to grow in the new environment. The fact is that you really can’t keep growing without change. Although the process can be stressful and even downright painful emotionally and even physically, the growth is usually worth it.

  I’ve seen that in my business. A few years ago I had to restructure my company. That meant letting some people go. I am horrible at firing people. I absolutely hate it. I’m a nurturing kind of guy, not a bloke who likes to bring the bad news down on those I care about. I still have nightmares about firing staff members whom I’d come to know and love as friends. But looking back, my company never would have been able to grow if I hadn’t made that change. We’ve reaped the rewards. I can’t say that I’m glad to have let go those former employees; I miss them still.

  Growing pains are a sign that you are stretching and reaching for new heights. You don’t have to enjoy them, but know that they always come before a breakthrough that leads to better days.

  CHANGING THE WORLD

  In my travels I’ve observed people in each of these stages of change, especially during the 2008 trip to India that I described before. I went to speak in Mumbai, India’s largest city and the second most populated city in the world. Once known as Bombay, Mumbai is on India’s west coast, on the Arabian Sea, and serves as its financial and cultural center.

  This city, home to both great wealth and terrible poverty, has been in the public spotlight because it served as the setting for the Academy Award–winning movie Slumdog Millionaire. As great as it is, that film offered only brief glimpses into the horrors of Mumbai’s slums and the sexual slave trade that flourishes in a city dominated by Hindus and Muslims, with only a small population of Christians.

  It’s estimated that more than half a million people are forced to sell their bodies in Mumbai. Most are kidnapped from small villages in Nepal, Bangladesh, and other rural areas. Many of the women are devadasi, worshippers of a Hindu goddess who were forced into prostitution by their “priests.” Some of the prostitutes are male hijras, castrated men. They are packed into filthy tenement houses and forced to have sex with at least four men a night. They have spread the AIDS virus rapidly, and millions have died.

  At one point I was taken to the red-light district known as the “Street of Cages” in Mumbai to see the suffering there and to speak to the victims of slavery. I had been invited by the Reverend K. K. Devaraj, founder of Bombay Teen Challenge, which works to rescue people from sexual slavery and help them find better, healthy lives.

  Uncle Dev, who also operates a home for AIDS orphans, feeding programs, medical centers, an HIV/AIDS clinic, and a rescue operation for drug-addicted “street boys,” had seen my videos, so he hoped that I could serve as a change agent in Mumbai. He wanted me to convince women working as prostitutes to flee slavery and to move into his shelters. Reverend Devaraj says that each enslaved woman is a “precious soul and valuable pearl.”

  Bombay Teen Challenge is such a force for good in the slums of Mumbai that the pimps and madams allow Uncle Dev and his team, who are Christians, to come in and speak to them, even though most are Hindu. They welcome that calming influence even though the Bombay Teen Challenge team constantly tries to convince the prostitutes to accept Christ and to leave the brothels for better lives.

  Bit by bit, this ministry works to change the hearts of these enslaved women. The average girl is kidnapped between the age of ten and thirteen. They are lured from small rural villages, and most are very naïve. If a girl is wary, the recruiters try to win over her parents, telling them she will earn fifty times the average wage. Or, sadly, they buy the girl from her parents, an all-too-common occurrence. The people who recruit and transport them are the first in a long line of cruel abusers. Once the girls are captive, the pimps take control, telling them, “You work for us now, whether you like it or not.”

  While in Mumbai, we interviewed several former sex slaves who’d been freed by Bombay Teen Challenge. Their stories, each one heartbreaking, are unfortunately not unusual. If they refused to be prostitutes, they were beaten, raped, and put in cages in dark and filthy underground compounds where they couldn’t even stand up. There they were starved, abused, and brainwashed all the more until they became submissive. Then they were sent to the brothels where they were told that they had been purchased for seven hundred U.S. dollars and that they had three years to work off the debt as prostitutes. Former sex slaves told us they’d been required to have sex hundreds of times, with two dollars applied to their debt each time.

  Most think they have no other options. The pimps tell them that their families will never take them back because of the shame they’ve brought to them. Many contract sexually transmitted diseases or have children as the result of their prostitution and so they f
eel they have nowhere else to go.

  As horrendous as life is for these girls and women, they often are afraid to make a change. Without faith, they lose hope, and then they lose their humanity. They despair of ever making it out of slavery and the slum. Psychologists often see the same resistance to escaping in women who are in abusive relationships. They may live in fear and pain, but they refuse to leave the abuser because they are more fearful of the unknown. They have lost their ability to dream of a better life, so they can’t see it.

  You may clearly see that these sex slaves should flee their terrible lives, but do you always see your own situation with such clarity? Have you ever felt trapped in circumstances, then discovered that the only trap was your own lack of vision, lack of courage, or failure to see that you had better options?

  To make a change, you must be able to envision what lies on the other side. You have to have hope and faith in God and in your ability to find something better.

  The Bombay Teen Challenge recognizes that women who have been enslaved have difficulty seeing a way out because they are so beaten down, isolated, and threatened. Some say they can’t believe that they are worthy of love or even decent treatment.

  I witnessed firsthand the suffering in the brothels and slums of Mumbai, and I also saw the miracles that Uncle Dev and his dedicated missionaries are performing among the sex slaves and their children, known as “sparrows,” who often live homeless, on the streets.

  They took me from one house to another. In the first I was introduced to an old woman who rose slowly from the floor as we entered. She was a madam who, through an interpreter, invited me in to “preach to my whores and inspire them to be better.”

  The madam introduced me to a woman who looked to be in her forties. She told me that she’d been kidnapped from her rural home at the age of ten and forced into prostitution.