A View from the Edge
Hiroki was 30 years old when an accident altered the course of his life, leaving him paralysed from the chest down. Over the past eight years, he has navigated the complexities of life as a wheelchair user, with his partner alongside him throughout his journey. Here we explore a short trip to Dover.
“It probably looks like I’m so in control. I remember when I was less experienced this would have felt immeasurably scary, that daunting feeling of tipping over backwards – I can still feel some of the fear. That unease hasn’t entirely left me; it lingers, a quiet, persistent whisper of my own vulnerability.”
“I can feel the sweat gathering in my gloves, but I must hold on tight. The edge of that cliff looms so close - I feel the anxiety pulsing through me, distracting me from appreciating the views that brought everyone else here. My hands ache from clutching the wheels so tightly, the strain traveling like an unwelcome guest from my fingers to my forearms, creeping further up until my entire body feels tense. I must not go over the edge.”
“Despite being at the edge, I feel a quiet contentment. Sure, I can’t go down the stairs to the beach, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy this view. Sometimes, the edge isn’t a limitation—it’s simply a different perspective. We should bring the kids here next time. They would love the beach, the waves, the endless space to play. And I’d be happy right here, watching them from this spot, feeling part of it all in my own way. In these moments I am able to balance the gratitude of what I have alongside the grief of freedoms lost.”
