With a vital speech full of irony, Christian Garcia talks about how his disability has not only not limited him, but has made him more capable. Through his triple A theory—accept, attitude, and adapt—he has managed to redefine his life. With him, we don't just talk about visual loss, but about vital gain. About how you can keep climbing stairs (even the 2,180 of the Montserrat Vertical) when life seems to stop.
Garcia was the fifth guest of the Esmorzars de Forquilla series of meetings organized by the Barcelona Chamber of Commerce. Sponsored by Indra and with The New Barcelona Post as a collaborating media, Garcia starred in a meeting with businessmen, among whom was the director of Indra in Catalonia, Salvador Garcia-Ruiz.
— Christian, let's start with a phrase of yours: "I see little, but I look a lot." What do you mean by this?
— Well, despite having a visual disability, I don't like to think that every day I see less... but that every day I see differently. Seeing is a capacity, but looking is a decision. And I decide to look. To be curious, to observe, to touch, to sniff... to find new ways to connect with the world. Because when you can't see it, you have to learn it in another way. And I have decided to look at life.
— Where does this contagious optimism come from?
— I often say that I am living a second life. From a process that I call the triple A theory: accepting adversity, having the attitude to overcome it, and adapting to the new reality. When you do that, adversity can become an opportunity. And this is exactly what has happened to me.
— Do you say that disability has given you more than it has taken away?
— Yes. I truly believe it. Disability has made me more capable. I am doing things I never would have imagined. Not because I am smarter, but because the brain is flexible, it adapts. And when you receive a big shock, you find ways to overcome it. In fact, let me tell you an anecdote.
— Go ahead.
— One day I was interviewed, like you now, and someone who heard it proposed I participate in a race: the Montserrat Vertical, 2,180 steps. I said yes, but with one condition: I wanted to do it with him, with Joaquim Maria Puyal, who is a very good friend of mine. He agreed to be my guide. We prepared together, competed together, and made it to the podium. But beyond the result, I would never have lived that experience if I hadn't had the disability.
"Seeing is a capacity, but looking is a decision"— Are you afraid that this condition, that of disability, will end up defining you?
— Yes, and I often think about it. I don't want either the previous stage or this one to define me. The last book I read on paper shortly before losing my sight was Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. Was it a coincidence? I don't know. But I held on to it tightly. It spoke of the last freedom: that of deciding how you live what happens to you. Well, that's what I do. Adversity has decided that I cannot read as before, nor drive, nor see my daughters' faces. But now I decide. I wear a watch, even though I can't see the time. Because I wore it before and I still want to wear it. It's a form of resistance. Of freedom.
"If I can make people reflect, if I can inspire, I already feel useful"— And now, are you clear that you want to help other people through your example?
— Yes. I had this clear from day one. And it fulfills me. I give conferences, I participate in foundations... And if a company invites me, it's not for me to put on a show, but because what I explain can be useful to someone. If I can make people reflect, if I can inspire, I already feel useful.
— There's a phrase of yours that struck me: "Do what you can." Is that your vital attitude?
— Absolutely. It's not an order, it's an invitation. Do what you can, however you can, but do it. If you tell me I have to reach a goal, but I can choose the path, I'll dive in headfirst. Like the challenge they've proposed to me now: learning to sail. The president of the Catalan Sailing Federation offered it to me. I've never sailed! But the idea fascinates me. It's not that I want to go to the Olympic Games, but the act of trying is already transformative. In the end, I just want to do the same things I did before... but in a different way.