Balancing Life and Living: A Reflection from an Occupational Therapist

I was driving to my daughter’s soccer game — The kind of day filled with routines and rushing, lost water bottles, and music playing too loud on the way.

At one point, I noticed a man on the sidewalk in a power wheelchair. He was accompanied by someone I assumed was a caregiver. He looked physically limited — head leaning against the headrest, swollen hands resting quietly. His presence was striking. Visible tubing, delicate skin, an overall fragility that gave me pause.

He looked tired, and my first feeling was sadness. Grief, even. A heaviness settled in as I continued the drive.

What must his days be like? What kind of life is he living?

When I arrived at the field, parents were already lined up with their chairs. And then I saw him again — the man from the sidewalk.

Only now, he was on the sidelines.

He was surrounded by family. A girl in a jersey waved toward him from the field. He was watching. Engaged. Smiling. His expression — one of affection, peace, and pride — was unmistakable.

In that moment, something shifted in me.

Seeing Through a Different Lens

As an occupational therapist, my work is rooted in helping people live meaningfully within the realities of their bodies and lives. But that evening, I wasn’t in clinical mode. I was just a mother, witnessing a grandfather watching his granddaughter play.

And I was reminded that our assumptions — even the quiet, unspoken ones — often miss the whole story.

What I had first seen as burden now looked like love. What I interpreted as limitation became presence.

Life Extended — and Lived

In today’s world, we have access to tools and technology that can extend life well beyond what was once possible. That’s something we don’t take for granted. These advances mean more time: more conversations, more celebrations, more ordinary moments with the people we love.

But with that time comes another question — one we don’t ask often enough: Are we also living well while living longer?

What Does It Mean to Live?

For some, living well means independence. For others, it’s connection. For many, it’s being there — even if “there” means watching a soccer game from the sidelines in a power chair.

There is no single definition. It’s deeply personal.

That’s why, in my work, the most important questions aren’t always about mobility or function. They’re about meaning:

• What matters to you right now?

• What moments do you want to be part of?

• What gives your days shape and texture?

These questions aren’t only for those facing illness. They’re for all of us.

Beyond Quantity vs. Quality

It’s easy to frame care choices in binary terms: quantity of life versus quality of life. But real life isn’t lived in binaries. Most people are looking for a balance — a way to hold onto who they are, even as circumstances change.

Some people will choose every possible treatment. Others will focus on comfort, or time with family. Our role, as healthcare professionals, is not to steer those decisions, but to support them — with clarity, compassion, and respect.

Final Thoughts

That man didn’t need to say anything. He didn’t need to walk or speak or explain.

He was there. He showed up.

And in doing so, he reminded me — perhaps more powerfully than any clinical experience — that living is not about how much we can do, but how deeply we can be.

As occupational therapists, and as people, our challenge is to remember that life is not only measured in years or abilities — but in presence. In witness. In love.

And sometimes, showing up is the most profound form of living there is.