******Scene 32 - Any Wish at All***********
Larry tell me, that if he could have any wish in the world…
Any wish at all…well…I don’t know what I would wish for,
but one thing I wouldn’t wish,
I wouldn’t wish that my accident Didn’t happen.
I’m not saying I’m glad my accident happened,
that I think anyone should Want for it to happen,
I mean, its been hard,
Real hard…
but,
well, I met everyone I know now because of my accident,
my recovery and all that,
and I’ve done a lot of cool things, and…
well, my accident has kinda made me who I am today.
and I’m okay with that.
***********Commentary*******************
If I could have any wish — any wish at all…
It took me some time to get used to this story.
Prior to this interview, I had wished countless times that my accident never happened — that I could return to the way things were before the accident — or at least to see what would have happened if I had continued down that road. I liked to imagine that life would have been perfect — or at least a lot easier and more rewarding than it was.
So what would have happened?
I’m going to play a game and take a look at possible — even likely — consequences in just one part of my life had my accident not occurred. After this, I will discuss how my specific example applies to the larger picture of recovery.
Let’s look at school — finishing high school and applying to university would have been a hell of a lot easier — that’s for certain — clearly one benefit of not having the accident. I would have graduated high school — possibly with honors — and continued to apply to dozens of schools recognized for their program in theatre performance — my desired field of study.
Or maybe I wouldn’t have had honors when I graduated — I was a bit lazy in high school and did not always (ever) fully apply myself to my academics, so maybe I would have passed with good grades, but not with academic honors.
But as for the application process for university — surely I would have had success in at least one application for New York University, or Carnegie Mellon, or Northwestern…though, I recognize that I did have my sights set on some prestigious universities, and while my theatrical talent was recognized in small town Pennsylvania, on a national stage my artistic flair may have become lost… so I might need to settle for study at a “backup school” — still good, but not the same level of theatrical prestige. But at least I wouldn’t be studying theatre at a Bloomsburg University with my father as a professor of theatre — I would have felt I had more freedom to explore my art and fully immerse myself in the theatre arts program…
Which means I would never have studied Philosophy, at least not with the same team of professors that I came to know, enjoy, and deeply respect — I would not have discovered my deep appreciation for philosophy of the mind. Furthermore, I probably would have aimed to follow a somewhat more traditional artistic path for actors — moved to a city and become involved with a performance group — and never discovered storytelling as a professional art form, nor attended East Tennessee State University for a graduate degree in Storytelling. And if I was living in a city and even moderately successful (able to pay for food and rent most months) as an actor, I may have never thought of teaching English abroad and never traveled outside the United States — at least not with the same sort of cultural immersion — and that means I probably would have never met the woman who I plan to marry…
And that is looking at just one consequence of not having had brain trauma. Had I not had my accident, my life would have been very different, and many of the events that I was a part of would not have happened — at least not in the same way.
Take a variation on the idea of “The Butterfly Effect” (from chaos theory, not the movie). This is the idea that any one small change can lead to infinite, unknown variations in the future — if a butterfly flaps in wings in China, it could start a cascade of effects that leads to a tornado in Iowa.
Apply that to life’s timeline — if any part of your life had been different than it is, you would be living a different life.
The world will pile on pleasures and torments in abundance — and many times, a pleasure will somehow be a result of a torment, or vice versa — it is impossible to know what the complete set of effects will be from any one event. Similarly, the complete set of causes for your current situation cannot be fully deciphered. What you can know is that you are Here, Now — with every joy and sorrow that entails. Surely there are parts of your life that have caused great pain — as you are reading this blog, you likely have some involvement with brain injury — and there may be times you look back on and curse the decisions you made, but everyone of these events — joyful, tragic, chosen or otherwise — has brought you to your current situation and will be part of that which creates what is next.
You are alive, and you can make the decision to enjoy it.
In the scene above, Larry accepts his situation — acknowledges the difficulties, but also appreciates the pleasures. He acknowledges that he is alive — he has done a lot of interesting things — he has met a lot of good people — and he is glad all those things are a part of his timeline. He has decided to be grateful for his situation.
What’s your decision?
This is your moment — how you accept it is up to you.
Please note, the scenes appear in reverse order and may cause confusion. To get a clearer understanding of the story, please start with the early entries in the blog. Thanks - enjoy.
Sunday, August 25, 2019
Monday, August 19, 2019
Scene 31 - Tony's Philsophy
*******Scene 31 — Tony’s Philosophy********
Tony has a simple philosophy on life.
Three words:
Born,
Live,
Die.
It’s what you do with that middle word that makes you who you are.
*************Commentary****************
These words are an exact quote — I took no artistic liberty in adjusting them — and I love everything about them.
These three words are the summary of everyone’s life.
Life begins when a person is born — into some situation and amid some set of circumstances that do not matter in the initial moment of life— when this first moment happens is a matter of metaphysical quandary and political skullduggery that does not matter for this philosophy —because the pure truth is that for everyone who is alive, there is some moment when life began. We are born.
And there is some moment when life, as any living person understands it to be, will end. A time when the energy that inhabits one’s physical form departs. As with the question of life — discussed above — the question of whether this energy is terminated or travels to the infinite is inconsequential for Tony’s philosophy. Simply put, the physical form that other people have come to know and is used to interact with the world, ceases to be animate. We die.
What we are left with — that elongated moment between birth and death — is life. Longer than the instant of birth or death — microscopically brief in the timeline of the universe and filled with the complete set of actions that is one’s experience. Most actions are a result of choices, and it this bundle of decisions that becomes the medium through which we define ourselves — the way you can state who you are.
But is a person merely the sum of his or her actions? Can we not harbor something inside that is not displayed to the world? What if there is a secret self that no-one knows about? Might this “secret self” be a better representation of the true character of a person?
According to Tony’s philosophy — No. It is our actions that define who we are. It is what we do while we live that defines our character. Secret impulses or an inner character do not matter — if we harbor any such inner motives — good or bad — as long as we do not behave in a way that displays these beliefs, they do not effect the empirical world.
Notice — above — that I used the words “most (added emphasis) actions are a result of choices”. As a survivor, one of our actions is that we have survived, but we did not choose this action. Our injury may have occurred because of choices we made, but in the moment when it happened we simply did it — we survived — yet that action has become a part of our definition in the world — I am a survivor — but the definition does not stop there. Life continues to be filled with infinite possibility after brain injury — granted, it is probably a different set of infinite possibilities than existed before the injury, but the set is still infinite. Therefore, there is an infinite number of ways to define one’s self.
We make choices, affected by our trauma, but these are still choices. Questions you can ask yourself — “Do I want to dwell in what I have lost or discover what I have gained?” “How can I learn from the new challenges that face me?” “How much do I want to incorporate my trauma into my professional or social life?” And the list continues — you just need to find the questions that bring the focus to how you want to define yourself.
One note about the above list — notice, that I do not include the question, “Will I let this trauma affect me?” This is a ridiculous question. Yes, the trauma will affect you. It is an action that you were a part of, and therefore is part of the definition of you, but it is NOT the WHOLE of your definition — you decide how much you want to display this part of yourself. Accept that actions of the the past will affect you — and decide how your present actions will define you for the future.
As an inspirational storyteller, I have made a decision to incorporate my accident into my professional life — I believe I can help people through my talents in speaking, writing, and leading workshops. You are welcome to make the same decision, or you may want to be less verbose about your trauma. The right decision is what feels best to you — just be sure that it is your decision.
We have been given a chance to live — some say that by being a survivor, we have been given a second chance to live. One day, we will die — but not today. We cannot pick every action in our life, but we can decide how we define ourselves.
We decide - Who Am I, Again?
Tony has a simple philosophy on life.
Three words:
Born,
Live,
Die.
It’s what you do with that middle word that makes you who you are.
*************Commentary****************
These words are an exact quote — I took no artistic liberty in adjusting them — and I love everything about them.
These three words are the summary of everyone’s life.
Life begins when a person is born — into some situation and amid some set of circumstances that do not matter in the initial moment of life— when this first moment happens is a matter of metaphysical quandary and political skullduggery that does not matter for this philosophy —because the pure truth is that for everyone who is alive, there is some moment when life began. We are born.
And there is some moment when life, as any living person understands it to be, will end. A time when the energy that inhabits one’s physical form departs. As with the question of life — discussed above — the question of whether this energy is terminated or travels to the infinite is inconsequential for Tony’s philosophy. Simply put, the physical form that other people have come to know and is used to interact with the world, ceases to be animate. We die.
What we are left with — that elongated moment between birth and death — is life. Longer than the instant of birth or death — microscopically brief in the timeline of the universe and filled with the complete set of actions that is one’s experience. Most actions are a result of choices, and it this bundle of decisions that becomes the medium through which we define ourselves — the way you can state who you are.
But is a person merely the sum of his or her actions? Can we not harbor something inside that is not displayed to the world? What if there is a secret self that no-one knows about? Might this “secret self” be a better representation of the true character of a person?
According to Tony’s philosophy — No. It is our actions that define who we are. It is what we do while we live that defines our character. Secret impulses or an inner character do not matter — if we harbor any such inner motives — good or bad — as long as we do not behave in a way that displays these beliefs, they do not effect the empirical world.
Notice — above — that I used the words “most (added emphasis) actions are a result of choices”. As a survivor, one of our actions is that we have survived, but we did not choose this action. Our injury may have occurred because of choices we made, but in the moment when it happened we simply did it — we survived — yet that action has become a part of our definition in the world — I am a survivor — but the definition does not stop there. Life continues to be filled with infinite possibility after brain injury — granted, it is probably a different set of infinite possibilities than existed before the injury, but the set is still infinite. Therefore, there is an infinite number of ways to define one’s self.
We make choices, affected by our trauma, but these are still choices. Questions you can ask yourself — “Do I want to dwell in what I have lost or discover what I have gained?” “How can I learn from the new challenges that face me?” “How much do I want to incorporate my trauma into my professional or social life?” And the list continues — you just need to find the questions that bring the focus to how you want to define yourself.
One note about the above list — notice, that I do not include the question, “Will I let this trauma affect me?” This is a ridiculous question. Yes, the trauma will affect you. It is an action that you were a part of, and therefore is part of the definition of you, but it is NOT the WHOLE of your definition — you decide how much you want to display this part of yourself. Accept that actions of the the past will affect you — and decide how your present actions will define you for the future.
As an inspirational storyteller, I have made a decision to incorporate my accident into my professional life — I believe I can help people through my talents in speaking, writing, and leading workshops. You are welcome to make the same decision, or you may want to be less verbose about your trauma. The right decision is what feels best to you — just be sure that it is your decision.
We have been given a chance to live — some say that by being a survivor, we have been given a second chance to live. One day, we will die — but not today. We cannot pick every action in our life, but we can decide how we define ourselves.
We decide - Who Am I, Again?
Friday, August 16, 2019
Scene 30 - Commitment
**********Scene 30 — Commitment*********
Sarah has made a commitment,
to getting better.
One day, I will write again,
One day, I will read,
One day, I will walk.
It just might take a little bit of time first,
that’s all.
****************Commentary**************
Sarah has made the decision to keep living.
After brain injury, the choices a survivor can make are limited — we often find our lives dictated by a new set of abilities and/or a rehabilitation schedule — therefore, it is important and empowering to recognize when and where we do have choices, and accepting to continue the process of living is a decision we can make. We must recognize that we’ve taken a hard hit by life, but that doesn’t mean we need to give up — that we will continue “getting better”. This does not mean we will return to a former state, but recognize our new abilities and discover how we can best employ these skills. This takes us on the journey of becoming a better person — of “getting better”.
Sarah has made this decision and is committed to keeping it.
Her injury has made many new difficulties — tasks that she used to find easy — writing, reading, walking to name a few — are now challenging or impossible to complete without assistance, yet she has made a commitment to improving these skills. Please recognize that commitment isn’t about completing, it is about applying oneself and being dedicated to the process of improving. Making a commitment to be at a meeting means that you will show up and try to contribute — if you make a commitment to a sports team it means you will use your athletic skills and work with your teammates to do your best — making a commitment of marriage means you will join with your partner and work together to improve yourselves both as individuals and as a couple. Sarah has made a commitment to “getting better” — there is no endpoint for this, but she has dedicated herself to showing up so that she can continue to improve her skills.
Finally, Sarah recognizes this is not a short term commitment. Even regaining the skills she mentions in the above scene, can take a very long time. For every human — starting from birth — it takes at least 3 - 6 years before we have even a rudimentary grasp on all the skills Sarah mentions — yet we go through the long, arduous process of learning these skills because they are required as part of having an independent existence. Most people do not remember the process of learning to walk — the function of our brain for long term memory is not fully developed — but if you look at any toddler, the determination cemented on his or her face is a clear indication of the difficulty. Furthermore, there is the confounding process of early reading or writing — the process of translating symbols — lines on a page — into sounds that represent ideas — this is an astoundingly complex process. With her injury, Sarah needs to go through the process of relearning these skills, and maybe it will take her another 3 - 6 years — or maybe less time — or it may take longer, but it doesn’t matter because Sarah has time — after all, she is alive.
Sarah has made a commitment,
to getting better.
One day, I will write again,
One day, I will read,
One day, I will walk.
It just might take a little bit of time first,
that’s all.
****************Commentary**************
Sarah has made the decision to keep living.
After brain injury, the choices a survivor can make are limited — we often find our lives dictated by a new set of abilities and/or a rehabilitation schedule — therefore, it is important and empowering to recognize when and where we do have choices, and accepting to continue the process of living is a decision we can make. We must recognize that we’ve taken a hard hit by life, but that doesn’t mean we need to give up — that we will continue “getting better”. This does not mean we will return to a former state, but recognize our new abilities and discover how we can best employ these skills. This takes us on the journey of becoming a better person — of “getting better”.
Sarah has made this decision and is committed to keeping it.
Her injury has made many new difficulties — tasks that she used to find easy — writing, reading, walking to name a few — are now challenging or impossible to complete without assistance, yet she has made a commitment to improving these skills. Please recognize that commitment isn’t about completing, it is about applying oneself and being dedicated to the process of improving. Making a commitment to be at a meeting means that you will show up and try to contribute — if you make a commitment to a sports team it means you will use your athletic skills and work with your teammates to do your best — making a commitment of marriage means you will join with your partner and work together to improve yourselves both as individuals and as a couple. Sarah has made a commitment to “getting better” — there is no endpoint for this, but she has dedicated herself to showing up so that she can continue to improve her skills.
Finally, Sarah recognizes this is not a short term commitment. Even regaining the skills she mentions in the above scene, can take a very long time. For every human — starting from birth — it takes at least 3 - 6 years before we have even a rudimentary grasp on all the skills Sarah mentions — yet we go through the long, arduous process of learning these skills because they are required as part of having an independent existence. Most people do not remember the process of learning to walk — the function of our brain for long term memory is not fully developed — but if you look at any toddler, the determination cemented on his or her face is a clear indication of the difficulty. Furthermore, there is the confounding process of early reading or writing — the process of translating symbols — lines on a page — into sounds that represent ideas — this is an astoundingly complex process. With her injury, Sarah needs to go through the process of relearning these skills, and maybe it will take her another 3 - 6 years — or maybe less time — or it may take longer, but it doesn’t matter because Sarah has time — after all, she is alive.
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
Scene 29 - Graduation
Hey friends -- It's been a while since my last post. There will be a several posts coming up in rapid succession (every 2 or 3 days) as I post the last few commentaries about the piece Who Am I, Again? Please read and enjoy, and keep in touch to learn what will be the next steps for this blog.
*********Scene 29 - Graduation*************
I remember my high school graduation.
and I don’t remember much about the ceremony itself,
up until I got my diploma.
See, we all got into line,
alphabetical order,
names were called,
Ryan before me,
and then, Lethan Candlish.
I walked halfway across the stage,
shook the Mr. Kellerman’s hand — the vice principal,
took my diploma,
and -
Now, like we said, Bloomsburg is a small town,
so everybody’s all up in everybody’s business,
and Everyone had heard something about my accident And my Miracle Recovery,
and as I finished crossing the stage, people began to applaud for me.
Truth is they stood up!
I got a standing ovation!
Now, I see this, and my theatrical instincts take over, so I turn,
face full front,
Deep bow.
And they laugh.
and I walked back to my seat thinking I made it…
Yippee
I wasn’t proud of myself - why should I be?
The second half of my senior year — with all the aids and help I was given — had been a joke.
Must have been pretty funny too - the audience had laughed.
I was alone. Tired.
Afraid.
I heard the name James Edgars called and I looked up on stage and saw James
in his wheelchair,
moving across the stage to…
See James has muscular dystrophy, so he’s always been in a wheel chair, at least as long as I’ve known him.
And, well, James and I — we were never close,
But he had worked harder than anyone to be graduating high school at all,
I mean yeah, he had been given a lot of help, a lot of aids — lot of assistance —
And I had that too —
but..
And as James took his diploma from Mr. Kellerman, he had this smile that Outshone the stage lights.
and as he finished his cross, again the audience applauded
Huge!
All around — shaking the seats of the auditorium
And it made sense…all of it.
I began to applaud as well because James had done it.
I had done it!
All of us, we were graduating.
And after the ceremony Mrs. Edgars, James’s mother, found me to congratulate me on getting through high school,
and I looked at her,
and I looked at James, smiling next to her,
and I looked back at her and I said, “well, thanks, but,
Well, congratulations to you -
To Both of you.
I had half a year, but you
Both of you made it through
Everything - Congratulations.” And she looked at me
said, “huh,
well I guess life gives everyone challenges,
and we all just
Get through them differently.”
***********Commentary*****************
“To graduate” is a process. The word “graduate” comes from the latin root “grad” — meaning “step” — and a graduation is a step in life. Another word that stems from the root of “grad” is “gradually” — changing little by little, step by step.
We decorate some moments of graduation with grandeur and glory — but these moments are somewhat arbitrarily selected, yet are declared to be “milestones in life” because of the pageantry involved. I don’t write this to demean any achievement of graduation, but to recognize that graduation is not a moment of completion, but a marker as we gradually move along our timeline. When we graduate from a class or a school, we are not done with learning or experiencing — we are taking the next step.
Hold on to that idea because we come back to it — but first the article is going to take a quick tangential sidestep.
“Being” is also a process. On dictionary.com, the term is defined as “the fact of existence”, but it seems to me that the “-ing” ending implies an active verb — a process — and I suggest that “being” is better defined as “the process of existence”. If we accept my definition, we can assume that being involves change, and as human beings — involved in a process — we are continuously changing — moving to the next step of life. In other words, we are perpetually graduating (told you we’d come back to it). We have agreed to publicly acknowledge some moments of graduation — but these selected instances hold no more objective value than any other steps on a timeline — when observed in the past tense, every life has a line that is plump with graduations — often unacknowledged — events that cause a change and push a person into a new stage of life.
Some unacknowledged graduations from my timeline…
When I made the decision to teach English overseas instead of pursuing a promising career opportunity in the United States, beginning a decade long excursion that has allowed me to live in South Korea, China, and Russia.
At age 8, meeting my best friend at his house and playing with Ninja Turtle action figures — beginning a friendship that continues to have a profound impact on my life.
The New Year of 2019, bending to one knee and finally proposing marriage to the woman who will soon be my wife.
Listening to that same lover when she challenged me — “You’re thinking of writing a blog? Well, what can you tell about your brain injury story that is new?” — thus beginning this self-reflective writing process.
The moment my car hit a telephone pole and I began the never-ending journey of
discovery after brain injury.
Each moment in the above list is a kind of graduation — and this list could continue for pages. I include my accident as part of this list because it was a step in my life — not the most pleasant step, but it certainly took me to a new stage of living — therefore, I now consider it a moment of graduation. I know you have a similarly infinite list — and if you don’t already know what is on your list, I encourage you to take a few minutes to think about it — write down the pleasant as well as the difficult — recognize some moments that changed everything — moments of graduation.
As a brain injury survivor, it can quickly feel as though we are static — stuck in our state — every day is a day of rehabilitation and relearning skills. When I was in early recovery, I held the idea of a “graduation” from rehab in my mind, and falsely believing that this would mean I had finishing recovery and was returning to my condition prior to the accident. I remember holding that goal in my mind — and there were instincts when it seemed so close — just one or two more things and I would succeed — but it always evaded my grasp, creating further aggravation. This became most clear in my social interactions — I wanted friendships to be as before, but that couldn’t happen because this was a new stage of living — and I had to deal with that. My classmates and I were all getting ready to graduate, but I had already gone through a different graduation, and it was hard to accept.
Took me years. Many years. So I gotta be blunt — as a survivor, we tend to want things to be the same as before, but that is not going to happen. If returning to your previous life is a goal, you are never going to complete it. As a brain injury survivor, we never “finish” recovering — and certainly never return to a prior state — we’ve changed as part of the injury. Hell, we’ve graduated.
And we will continue to graduate — continue to change. Take some time and acknowledge moments in your rehabilitation that can be recognized as graduations — moments that have marked you taking a new step. Write these down or share them with a caregiver — appreciate making the next step. I remember getting my mouth unwired and graduating to eating with my mouth again —leaving my wheelchair behind and graduating to taking a walk on the streets of Philadelphia with my rehabilitation coach — hugging my favorite caregivers farewell as I left Magee Rehabilitation hospital and graduating to a home based recovery plan — and again, this list could continue forever.
We cannot celebrate every graduation — having Pomp and Circumstance (the song played at high school graduation ceremonies) on infinite repeat would drive any person insane — and many steps simply shouldn’t be celebrated — but all can be acknowledged. These are part of ascending the steps of life. As a survivor, it is important to recognize this — that graduation is never an ending — it is tied into the step by step process of being — into the next moment of life — part of the discovery of Who You Are Now.
I hope these thoughts have helped you to graduate in some way. Please leave comments below.
*********Scene 29 - Graduation*************
I remember my high school graduation.
and I don’t remember much about the ceremony itself,
up until I got my diploma.
See, we all got into line,
alphabetical order,
names were called,
Ryan before me,
and then, Lethan Candlish.
I walked halfway across the stage,
shook the Mr. Kellerman’s hand — the vice principal,
took my diploma,
and -
Now, like we said, Bloomsburg is a small town,
so everybody’s all up in everybody’s business,
and Everyone had heard something about my accident And my Miracle Recovery,
and as I finished crossing the stage, people began to applaud for me.
Truth is they stood up!
I got a standing ovation!
Now, I see this, and my theatrical instincts take over, so I turn,
face full front,
Deep bow.
And they laugh.
and I walked back to my seat thinking I made it…
Yippee
I wasn’t proud of myself - why should I be?
The second half of my senior year — with all the aids and help I was given — had been a joke.
Must have been pretty funny too - the audience had laughed.
I was alone. Tired.
Afraid.
I heard the name James Edgars called and I looked up on stage and saw James
in his wheelchair,
moving across the stage to…
See James has muscular dystrophy, so he’s always been in a wheel chair, at least as long as I’ve known him.
And, well, James and I — we were never close,
But he had worked harder than anyone to be graduating high school at all,
I mean yeah, he had been given a lot of help, a lot of aids — lot of assistance —
And I had that too —
but..
And as James took his diploma from Mr. Kellerman, he had this smile that Outshone the stage lights.
and as he finished his cross, again the audience applauded
Huge!
All around — shaking the seats of the auditorium
And it made sense…all of it.
I began to applaud as well because James had done it.
I had done it!
All of us, we were graduating.
And after the ceremony Mrs. Edgars, James’s mother, found me to congratulate me on getting through high school,
and I looked at her,
and I looked at James, smiling next to her,
and I looked back at her and I said, “well, thanks, but,
Well, congratulations to you -
To Both of you.
I had half a year, but you
Both of you made it through
Everything - Congratulations.” And she looked at me
said, “huh,
well I guess life gives everyone challenges,
and we all just
Get through them differently.”
***********Commentary*****************
“To graduate” is a process. The word “graduate” comes from the latin root “grad” — meaning “step” — and a graduation is a step in life. Another word that stems from the root of “grad” is “gradually” — changing little by little, step by step.
We decorate some moments of graduation with grandeur and glory — but these moments are somewhat arbitrarily selected, yet are declared to be “milestones in life” because of the pageantry involved. I don’t write this to demean any achievement of graduation, but to recognize that graduation is not a moment of completion, but a marker as we gradually move along our timeline. When we graduate from a class or a school, we are not done with learning or experiencing — we are taking the next step.
Hold on to that idea because we come back to it — but first the article is going to take a quick tangential sidestep.
“Being” is also a process. On dictionary.com, the term is defined as “the fact of existence”, but it seems to me that the “-ing” ending implies an active verb — a process — and I suggest that “being” is better defined as “the process of existence”. If we accept my definition, we can assume that being involves change, and as human beings — involved in a process — we are continuously changing — moving to the next step of life. In other words, we are perpetually graduating (told you we’d come back to it). We have agreed to publicly acknowledge some moments of graduation — but these selected instances hold no more objective value than any other steps on a timeline — when observed in the past tense, every life has a line that is plump with graduations — often unacknowledged — events that cause a change and push a person into a new stage of life.
Some unacknowledged graduations from my timeline…
When I made the decision to teach English overseas instead of pursuing a promising career opportunity in the United States, beginning a decade long excursion that has allowed me to live in South Korea, China, and Russia.
At age 8, meeting my best friend at his house and playing with Ninja Turtle action figures — beginning a friendship that continues to have a profound impact on my life.
The New Year of 2019, bending to one knee and finally proposing marriage to the woman who will soon be my wife.
Listening to that same lover when she challenged me — “You’re thinking of writing a blog? Well, what can you tell about your brain injury story that is new?” — thus beginning this self-reflective writing process.
The moment my car hit a telephone pole and I began the never-ending journey of
discovery after brain injury.
Each moment in the above list is a kind of graduation — and this list could continue for pages. I include my accident as part of this list because it was a step in my life — not the most pleasant step, but it certainly took me to a new stage of living — therefore, I now consider it a moment of graduation. I know you have a similarly infinite list — and if you don’t already know what is on your list, I encourage you to take a few minutes to think about it — write down the pleasant as well as the difficult — recognize some moments that changed everything — moments of graduation.
As a brain injury survivor, it can quickly feel as though we are static — stuck in our state — every day is a day of rehabilitation and relearning skills. When I was in early recovery, I held the idea of a “graduation” from rehab in my mind, and falsely believing that this would mean I had finishing recovery and was returning to my condition prior to the accident. I remember holding that goal in my mind — and there were instincts when it seemed so close — just one or two more things and I would succeed — but it always evaded my grasp, creating further aggravation. This became most clear in my social interactions — I wanted friendships to be as before, but that couldn’t happen because this was a new stage of living — and I had to deal with that. My classmates and I were all getting ready to graduate, but I had already gone through a different graduation, and it was hard to accept.
Took me years. Many years. So I gotta be blunt — as a survivor, we tend to want things to be the same as before, but that is not going to happen. If returning to your previous life is a goal, you are never going to complete it. As a brain injury survivor, we never “finish” recovering — and certainly never return to a prior state — we’ve changed as part of the injury. Hell, we’ve graduated.
And we will continue to graduate — continue to change. Take some time and acknowledge moments in your rehabilitation that can be recognized as graduations — moments that have marked you taking a new step. Write these down or share them with a caregiver — appreciate making the next step. I remember getting my mouth unwired and graduating to eating with my mouth again —leaving my wheelchair behind and graduating to taking a walk on the streets of Philadelphia with my rehabilitation coach — hugging my favorite caregivers farewell as I left Magee Rehabilitation hospital and graduating to a home based recovery plan — and again, this list could continue forever.
We cannot celebrate every graduation — having Pomp and Circumstance (the song played at high school graduation ceremonies) on infinite repeat would drive any person insane — and many steps simply shouldn’t be celebrated — but all can be acknowledged. These are part of ascending the steps of life. As a survivor, it is important to recognize this — that graduation is never an ending — it is tied into the step by step process of being — into the next moment of life — part of the discovery of Who You Are Now.
I hope these thoughts have helped you to graduate in some way. Please leave comments below.
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