I’ve never met Aron Ralston, but I am 100% certain that, prior to April 26, 2003, if you’d asked him, “Hey, Aron, you think you could ever break your arm on purpose, and then saw it off with a dull pocketknife?” - he’d have laughed in your face and told you you were crazy. “Hell no,” or something to that effect, would be his answer.
And yet, that’s exactly what he wound up doing. Not because he’s crazy, but because he knew he’d die if he didn’t.
No, he wasn’t a character in any of the SAW movies. He’s just an everyday dude. A normal person like you and me, who found himself in the most abnormal situation a person could imagine.
Walk with me on the shortcut path of that story and the lessons it holds.
It was just a normal day doing something he’s done countless times. Aron packed up some light gear- he was only going for a few hours hike, (technically, he was going canyoneering, pretty much a hike through canyons) so he wouldn’t need extra supplies. No need to tell anyone where he was heading, either, so often did he head out on such adventures.
A gorgeous day had dawned by the time he parked his car at southeastern Utah’s Bluejohn Canyon. His hike unfolded much as he’d anticipated. Breathtaking scenery, muscles stretching and endorphins kicking in. Then, with one step, catastrophe struck.
In the course of descending into a canyon, a boulder dislodged, crushing his lower right arm beneath it. Aron was now trapped below anyone’s line of sight, in a desolate area that few people visited in the first place. The odds of anyone happening upon him were virtually nonexistent.
He had two burritos and about 12 ounces of water with him.
For the next five days, Aron rationed those meager supplies. When his water ran out, he drank his own urine. He froze during the frigid evening and night hours. All attempts to extricate himself failed. That boulder was too big, too heavy, and too stuck. Knowing he was about to die, Aron carved his name in the canyon wall and recorded a farewell video to his friends and family.
Then he slipped into sleep, assuming he would not awake.
But he did wake up. And his mind was full from a vision his sleep had brought - a vision of him happy, living his life - with one arm.
His arm was beyond salvation. It had already begun decomposing. He was exhausted, dehydrated, delirious, and yet he had a renewed hope. He realized he had one small chance to survive : He’d have to amputate his arm to free himself and escape death.
The details of his next acts are both inspiring and horrifying - how he first broke his own bones and then used his dull pocketknife to amputate his arm. In a film made about him, those details are painfully played out.
If he’d amputated sooner, he later learned, he would have bled to death. If he’d waited any longer, he would not have survived.
Aron’s salvation was not instant once he escaped from that boulder. Somehow, he pushed himself to hike several miles and rappel over 60 feet before being discovered. His story is one of sheer bad luck, terror, and courage. It’s a story that has stayed with me throughout the two decades it happened, as my own sudden devastation struck not too long after.
Like Aron, tragedy hit my family on a gorgeous morning when we had no reason to believe it would be anything other than a normal day. Figuratively speaking, I recognize the similarities our catastrophes carry.
Like Aron, I once believed my situation was hopeless. And like Aron, I have had to sever some painful ties in order to move forward.
I carried the lessons from this story with me, too. Here are some of those bullet points:
We are capable of overcoming more than we ever imagine ourselves to be.
Salvation does not always arrive on our preferred timeline.
In suffering, we discover our own strength.
Recognize when something we are attached to must be left behind, for us to survive.
Even the smallest chance is worth fighting for.
Don’t wait for tragedy to strike, to recognize what truly matters in life.
And I would be remiss not to throw this in..
Our stories matter. Our struggles, trauma, and suffering hold lessons that not only help us, but those we share them with. My three books address all these lessons from different viewpoints.
The books I help my clients write, share theirs.
And the books I’ve read have helped me on my way.
I’d love to help you write yours. Drop me a message and let’s discuss!
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