My Beautiful Brain and a New Ritual
It’s been a year and a half since a post-surgical brain blood clot changed my life.
It’s been four months since I’ve blogged about it.
Some things have changed. (My hair is longer!)
Some have not.
I’m learning how to listen to my brain.
When my brain tells me it needs a break, I take one. When it tells me stop. I stop. I grew up thinking I could push through, overcome, try harder. But I’m learning to respect what my body and brain are shouting at me. Take a break, already.! Okay, then, I will!
I’m learning what a beautiful organ the brain is. How it heals, slowly, month after month, year after year. My physical therapists keep encouraging me. “Your brain is still healing,” they say as they list off all the things I’m still learning to do.
This year has taken a lot of humility.
I’m not in control of everything the way I used to be. Or at least, the way I thought I used to be. Maybe that’s also just a part of growing older. The realization that we are not in control of much. But then. We never have been.
I’ve fallen in love with several new writers
Their words and clarity help me navigate my new world. One of them is Kate Bowler. Author of Everything Happens and No Cure for Being
Human. I love her podcast. Kate has terrifically funny, heartfelt conversations with all sorts of human beings who are figuring out that
Life is So Beautiful. And. Life is So Hard.
I still can’t
Walk a straight line.
Riding in a car remains difficult.
The North Dakota wind drives me crazy. 40 mph gusts and I’m totally overwhelmed by the noise, motion, and pressure.
I still need to nap every day and get in a solid ten hours sleep each night. I don’t have the stamina I used to have.
I’m easily overwhelmed by too much noise, commotion, or movement.
My hubby and I have started a new ritual.
We fall asleep each night like this:
He’s ready to sleep and turns the light off. I turn it back on. “We haven’t done it yet,” I say.
“Done what?” he asks.
“You know,” I reply.
He groans and then smiles. “Okay,” he says. “My win for today was ...”
We go back and forth listing our “wins”.
Big or small. Mostly teeny-tiny.
“I ran into Sam at work,” he says, “and we went on a walk together over lunch.”
“Sarah texted,” I say, “She’s coming over tomorrow to pick some lettuce and kale.”
“I had strawberry pie for dessert.”
“I sold two books on my website! AND I biked up to the post office to mail them.”
“We saw a fox by the river tonight.”
“We have each other.”
We fall asleep with these good thoughts on our minds.
Not the negative – and there are plenty of those – but the wins. Learning to look for them, learning to see them, learning to articulate them is good for me. This journey into small pleasures and small joys surprises me. It’s a journey I didn’t know that I would need.
Wins the Past Four Months
Bending over and touching my toes without getting dizzy and falling over.
Doing a down dog again in yoga.
Turning my head side to side, up and down, and even doing circles! I can look around and see my world again. Head movements have become okay. Amazing!!
Sitting in the car for a three hour trip without throwing up or being nauseous and dizzy! I mean. WOW. I can travel – a bit – again. What a joy! What a wonder.
Being able to schedule TWO things in one day. I can go grocery shopping in the morning AND do a book club talk in the evening! What freedom! It changes my life
Day by day.
Small joys. Small beauties. Small wins. And then the days add up and a week or a month has gone by that I look back on with amazement. What a wonderful week I’ve had! What a beautiful month this has been.
May you fall asleep remembering your wins.
May you wake up to hope.
May you be held in gentle kindness today.
Thanks for reading!
Love always,
Jill