The Strength In Presence
Published on September 14, 2025
Strangely enough, the quadriplegic me is stronger than the fisherman me.
Big news: I’m officially moving out of the care facility on November 1st. Can you believe that!? The bathroom renovation has started, and the fundraiser—my handcrafted donation platform at mattsfreedomfundraiser.com—is doing well. I’ve even made the first payment. I’ve also been interviewing caregivers. On top of that, I’ve got freelance software engineering work lined up—no boss, my own schedule. Pretty amazing.
For those who are new here, my name is Matt Raynor. I’m paralyzed from the collarbone down with limited arm mobility and hand function. I broke my neck in a diving accident six years ago. Two years ago, I was admitted to a care facility. Instead of unraveling, I chose to see it as a fork in the road—a signpost pointing me in a new direction. Since then, I’ve made it my purpose to heal mind and body, to find clarity in sobriety, and to re-map my thought patterns so I could finally work through the deep trauma of addiction, paralysis, and self-destruction.
Pain as a Teacher
After I broke my neck, I lost everything. It felt like everything I loved was stripped away. I could no longer build with my hands or spend time on the ocean—the place I felt most alive. No more world travel, no more surfing or spearfishing, no more days blowing around the bay. I went from a strong, capable man to a limp body in a power chair. I would roll outside, look at my boat, and cry. Every day was unbearable. How could someone live like this?
But here’s the miracle: that pain, that darkness, became the very thing that transformed me. Before my accident, I couldn’t sit with myself. I never thought of myself as intelligent. I was restless, always running, never still long enough to learn. My mind was a scary place.
After a long adjustment period, the accident forced me to be still. Forced me to analyze my thoughts. And in time, with faith and practice, I got good at it. I learned how to shift negative patterns into positive ones. I discovered mental endurance. I discovered clarity.
And because of that, I became capable of something I never thought possible: sitting down and truly learning. Who would have thought that Matt the fisherman—too restless to study, too restless to sit—would become Matt the software engineer?
And here’s the irony: I lost the use of my hands, yet programming demands hands. But instead of stopping me, it pushed me to adapt. I mastered using AI in my workflow, and now I’m extraordinarily efficient. I can create systems that would normally take a team of three.
That’s why I say suffering isn’t a detour—it is the path. Every hardship I’ve faced has been the very thing that shaped me into someone stronger. Pain is a sacred teacher. It builds character, integrity, and virtue. If you embrace it that way—even hard days contain the elements of good days.
Tao, Buddhism, and the Way
As many of you know, I’m a Buddhist. I also practice Taoism. The Tao—sometimes translated as the Way—is an ancient Chinese philosophy you already know more about than you think. Yin and Yang? Feng shui? Tai chi? That’s Taoist thought.
What makes Taoism unique is that it explicitly warns against being treated as a religion. To label it is to lose its essence. Religion often divides; the Tao is the universe’s original nature—unlabeled, undivided, unspoiled by human hands. It’s about living authentically, embracing simplicity, reducing selfishness, and aligning yourself with nature and circumstance.
For someone paralyzed like me, powerless over so much, the Tao has become my unshakable foundation. It’s not about forcing outcomes—it’s about letting life unfold in its own way, in its own time. It’s addition through subtraction: fewer thoughts, fewer divisions, more stillness. By observing patterns and finding clarity, you end up doing less while achieving more. Who doesn’t want that?
Daily Practice
So how do I stay grounded in all this?
For most of my life—before and after my accident—I woke up with a head full of noise. Worry, anxiety, ego, fear. My will ready to run wild. So I built a ritual to ground myself before I do anything meaningful.
I practice Nichiren Buddhism. Every morning I chant Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo—which translates to “I devote myself to the Mystic Law of the Lotus Sutra.” It’s about aligning my life with the ultimate rhythm of the universe. I also practice gongyo, reciting passages of the Lotus Sutra, which teaches that everyone has the seed of Buddhahood inside them. Enlightenment isn’t reserved for saints—it’s the original nature of the universe, and it’s in all of us.
This steadies me when my body betrays me, when I’m sick, when I’m stuck inside for days, or when my thoughts start to spiral. It always brings me back to my foundation.
Wu Wei: Effortless Action
Here’s one of my favorite lessons from Taoism.
Taoism teaches wu wei, or effortless action. At first, it sounds like laziness, but it’s actually the opposite. It’s about leaving space for the universe to work through you—achieving more by doing less, through stillness and clarity.
The harder you force something, the more resistance you create. But when you move in harmony with the universe, the Way carries the weight.
Think about it: have you ever worried so much that your anxiety seemed to guarantee the outcome you feared? Or fought change so hard that the pushback was equal to the force you put into resisting it? That’s what effortless action warns against.
Instead of frantic planning and forcing the unknown future into the mold of my will, I practice patience. Small actions, taken at the right time, add up more than all the nervous energy in the world.
We waste so much energy trying to shape a future we can’t predict. By trusting in the universe—trusting positivity, light, and love—we conserve that energy and find peace in the present.
(And if the word “Tao” doesn’t work for you, substitute “God.” The principle is the same.)
Yin and Yang: Balance in Duality
Yin and Yang represent duality—opposites contained within each other. Success carries the seed of failure; failure carries the seed of growth. Life is continual change, opposites flowing into one another like the circle of yin and yang.
When I stop dividing everything into “good” or “bad,” I feel free. Division is a trick of the mind—it cages us and pulls us out of presence.
I believe presence is the ultimate form of love—for yourself and for others. Anything that pulls you away from it deserves to be examined and reshaped.
I try to see myself as the whole sky—stars, clouds, sun, moon—and my thoughts and feelings as temporary weather fronts passing through. When it rains, let it rain. When it’s foggy, let it be foggy. But always remember: it will pass.
The Sufficiency of Now
And this is where it all comes together.
Many of us are paralyzed by the illusion of a future we think we can control—or the weight of a past we can’t change. But we are not time travelers. Life only happens now.
And while that might sound frightening, it’s also incredible. If you can make this moment good—and repeat it—your whole life will be good, regardless of circumstance.
When I surrender my will and let the universe carry what I can’t, I return to the present. That’s where real transformation happens.
An Invitation
So I want to invite you back into the present moment. Build your own meditation practice.
If I can do it—a quadriplegic with chronic pain, a history of addiction, anxiety, and depression—you can too.
The present is enough. The Way is here. If you let it, the universe will carry more weight than you ever imagined.
Do your work with sincerity, then step back. The Way will carry the rest.
A Little Well-Earned Shameless Self-Promotion
If this piece resonated with you, please consider subscribing to my Substack.
If you’re a business owner who needs a software solution to clear bottlenecks—whether it’s an application for taking orders, tracking invoices or work orders, a logistics dashboard, an e-commerce store, a business website, or even an AI/ML pipeline (because who doesn’t love a good pipeline!)—please feel free to reach out.
📧 Email: MNRAYNOR90@gmail.com
🌐 Website: matthewraynor.com
Also, I invite you to check out my fundraiser website—even just to watch the video. A friend had a professional documentary made about me that tells my story, my message, and what I’m working toward. It’s done beautifully. And yes—I built my own donation platform because GoFundMe almost stole all the money from my last fundraiser.