It can be anything, a second chance. It starts when you're a kid, hoping for do-overs like one more swing at the ball, another tryout for the play, making up with your best friend after a squabble—things you think are going to change your life. That's how important another go at it feels. And at the time, it was.
When we look back, these breaks seem simple, so inconsequential. As adults, though, we often tend to think of second chances as opportunities on a grander scale: to right a failure, roll the seemingly Sisyphean rock back up the hill, or—fingers crossed—get back that thing or person we let slip away. But second chances can be so much more than that.
First and foremost, they are about learning and realizations. A second chance can be eye-opening and glorious, about recoveries of all kinds, a one-time chance to see things a different way. And another go-around doesn't always have to mean looking for the same result, either.
Second Chances is meant to inspire its readers—and hopefully help them strive for something new, better, bigger. Help to see the positive, appreciate the unexpected, perhaps feel gratitude where one thought there was nothing to be grateful for. Within these pages, you'll find people who have found new glimmers of light after losing their homes in fires, or suffering through Hurricane Sandy. The realizations that their families are safe and that they have new bonds with their communities opens up a new part of these people's souls. And there are also contributors who have found that they have to do very little, really, to right a wrong or implement an improvement that will give them peace or a new outlook. I urge you to open your mind up to what a new beginning is—not always so linear as "step one, step two." Start to realize that every bend in the road is part of what comes next.
But not every second chance needs to be so momentous and life-changing. Some folks here have said they try to be aware of new and more modest options daily. And you will find lightheartedness in these pages, believe me. You'll read stories that will delight you and many others that will feel very familiar. Perhaps familiar enough to make you reassess and try again.
Each one of these contributions is the story or musing of an ordinary person—some who have been through some very extraordinary things, and others, well, they've got plans to change things around in life. The unifying thread is that they all have an ending that allows the storyteller to go forward with his or her life. Occasionally, it's not what we'd normally call a Happy Ending, but as one person noted about her experience, "The sun came up again the next day, and then the next day, and the next day." And sometimes that is enough to begin a path to greater fulfillment.
And I can tell you that people found very different ways to tell their stories. Some were eager to recount well-worn tales they found comfort in. Others needed encouragement, then wrote to me later and said that having put words to paper about their experiences for the first time ever was cathartic in a way they never expected. And still others I had lengthy dialogues with, gently prodding them to recall and finally spill out their experiences. Several storytellers needed help writing about themselves, so we composed drafts together and they expanded and edited until their contributions felt like the stories they knew so well. I think I can say it has been an extremely heartfelt experience for all of us.
Of course, part of the purpose of this book is my desire—for myself and others—to not have to look back later and say, "I wish I had …" After writing her story, one woman said to me: "Every moment offers a second chance; no feeling is final. We are on a journey to make ourselves more conscious, so every moment holds the potential for a new way."
If I were to say one thing about second chances, it would be this reminder: Everybody's had one—and everybody's got plenty more.
ERIN McHUGH
New York City, Spring 2016
Second Chances
