Accept. Adapt. Overcome.
A Summer Reflection.
Hi [FIRST NAME GOES HERE],
My friend Eugene has had a profound influence on my life: as father, husband, friend, son and brother.
I first shared about Eugene over a year ago in this article, “I cried a lot in 2023.”
In the face of Motor Neurone Disease, a condition that strips away your ability to move, speak, and eventually breathe, Eugene has come to summarize his MND story in 3 words: Accept. Adapt. Overcome.
Here is a little background to this article and how Eugene and I feel it may positively influence your outlook on life, especially if this Summer you are in need of some inspiration.
The Motor Neuron Disease Association (MNDA) recently gave Eugene a grant to install a through-floor lift in his home. In return they asked to learn more about his story, from before he was diagnosed with MND to now. I won’t lie, I cried, but I also was immediately inspired and I hope I can capture that same feeling in this article.
Eugene isn’t pretending things are fine. His story is full of loss, from mobility, speech, and independence, but somehow he manages to still find purpose for his life. He’s not chasing the perfect version of himself. He’s choosing what to keep in focus: his family, his mindset, his energy. This is a focus we should all have, but in my case, it took the terminal diagnosis of a friend to find. Even then, I still needed Eugene to spell it out for me.
If this year has left you bruised by broken trust, professional fatigue, fractured relationships, or things that didn’t go as planned, then you probably need something more than a break to ‘move on’.
I hope you appreciate that the following isn't about moving on. It’s about moving through.
Accept (July)
Acceptance isn’t resignation. Eugene is clear about that. He says, “I accept that MND is degenerative and will beat me eventually… but not today.” That sentence was the one that broke me. Acceptance, though, for him, is not about surrendering to despair, it’s about giving yourself the clarity to decide what you will do, even when control feels scarce.
Maybe you’ve come to the end of the school year and all you can feel is what didn’t work: a team that never truly clicked, a leader who disappointed you, a culture that feels toxic. Maybe you’re finishing the year carrying resentment or shame. Maybe you’re grieving your own silence when you wished you’d spoken up. Whatever it is, Eugene’s words offer an entry point.
Accept where things are. Name what hurts. Not to wallow, but to see it. Because if we can’t accept what is real, we’ll spend all summer pretending, instead of healing.
In “It Is Easier to Forgive Than to Forget,” I wrote about how we carry things even after we've said we've let them go. Acceptance is the first step toward being honest about what we're carrying, and deciding if it's something we still want to carry with us.
This summer, let’s pause long enough to surface the things we’ve been pushing away. Not every problem will be solved. But acceptance doesn’t need solutions, it needs space.
Adapt (August-September)
Once Eugene accepted the reality of his diagnosis, he turned his attention to what could change. He couldn’t walk safely anymore, so he uses a wheelchair. He couldn’t speak clearly, so he relies on his daughter to translate. He couldn’t chew, so he eats puréed food. He can no longer do many things he loved, but he finds new ways to be present with his family, work, and the parts of life he can still engage with.
When I wrote “5 Ways to Give Genuine Appreciation,” it was partly about this: adapting how we show up. We don’t always get to control the context we’re in, but we can adjust how we connect, how we communicate, how we care.
Adapting doesn’t mean lowering expectations, it means shifting them from perfection to alignment. It means asking different questions:
- Don’t Ask: “Why don’t they get it?”
- Ask: “What would help us both understand this differently?”
- Don’t Ask: “Why is this so hard?”
- Ask: “What would make this less hard?”
If you spend the summer reflecting and accepting, then August and September become the months to adapt. What routines need to change? What boundaries need to be clearer? What expectations need to be reset with your team, your family, or yourself?
Eugene doesn’t pretend adapting is easy. But he shows us it’s possible. And often, it’s the bridge between feeling stuck and feeling hopeful again.
Overcome (October)
Eugene is not overcoming MND. That’s not the kind of battle this is. But he is overcoming despair. Overcoming the paralysis that comes when you believe the future has nothing left to offer. He wakes up each day and chooses presence. He chooses love. He chooses to laugh with his kids and keep showing up for work and notice the good.
In “I Want to See More of That,” I wrote about how Eugene taught me that encouragement can bring people back to themselves. Overcoming isn’t always big and bold, it can be subtle and done with small gestures. A conversation that reopens trust. A decision to reach out when you usually pull away. Leaning in to help when it is unexpected.
By October, you will have had time to reflect, reset, and rethink. You may not have answers to everything, but you will be in a strong position to set goals. What you will have is the ability to respond, with compassion and purpose, to whatever the school brings.
Final Thoughts
Eugene said something that I think might just be the most important lesson of all:
“You can fill [your time] with self-pity, resentment and bitterness or you can laugh, love and spread as much joy as you can. I know which one I prefer.”
This is not a denial of hardship. It is a choice, made within hardship.
So before you start drafting strategic plans or curriculum overhauls or professional goals, spend some time this summer in the quiet work of acceptance. Accept the relationships that frayed. The exhaustion. The missteps. The hopes that didn’t pan out.
From that place of honesty, you’ll be better able to adapt. And from that adaptation, you’ll be better able to overcome.
And perhaps, like Eugene, you’ll rediscover joy in what you’re doing, who you’re doing it with, and the meaning behind it all.
If you have found Eugene’s story inspirational, or perhaps know someone with MND, please consider a small donation to Eugene’s Hospice Care, Farleigh. Farleigh has been incredible in supporting Eugene and his family and have played a part in helping Eugene Accept, Adapt and Overcome.
I wish you all well,
Michael
