**************Scene 19 - It’s a New Year*************
I remember when I left Magee Rehabilitation Hospital.
It was December 23rd, and I was going to be Home for Christmas
What’s more, I was going to be home for New Years Eve,
and this was the big one -
into the Year 2000 -
And I was returning home for the Mother of all New Years Celebrations -
See, Bloomsburg, my town, was going all out with a First Night celebration -
It’s this
city wide spectacle to bring in the New Year,
and there was going to be live music downtown,
and games,
and street theater,
and the rotary club was dancing the polka,
and there was Lots of Fried food,
- it was my First trip downtown,
and Everyone was there.
I was walking around - with my parents help -
We saw my friends there,
and my parents’ friends,
and people who I had never met before but who had heard about me through their friends
- it’s a small town thing -
and I thanked Each and Every person for their love and support,
and I told them,
without your love and support I would not be where I am today,
So thank you.
Thank you.
Thank You.
And sometimes it might bet a little bit weird - but then I would laugh,
and I remember Balloons, and confetti, streamers, and thinking This is My New Year
I was returning home
Alive.
I had been given a chance to view life in a new way.
I had been to the Gates of Hell
and I had visited Heaven.
and now it was time for me to share all that I had learned.
And it was going to be good - it was going to be Real good -
A new Life with new Millennium.
Here we go…
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two…
************************************************
This was my Celebration.
Or, at least, that’s how it felt.
I’ve always had a theatrical flamboyance, and to have my homecoming seem like it was heralded by a citywide celebration was amazing!
Be clear - cognitively, I knew that this New Year party wasn’t about me - but it felt like it might be - just a little. It felt - this was the scene in the family television drama when - when the boy graduates - when the father reunites with his daughter - when the hero comes home.
That’s what I wanted it to be - the grand conclusion - because in the TV show, once the protagonist completes his or her transformation and makes the return, the movie is done. You can stand up, brush the crumbs off your lap, go to the bathroom, wash your hands, and move on with your life feeling a little bit happier because the movie worked out.
In my story, I felt like I had gone through my trails and learning at the hospital - yes they had told me that the healing would continue for years, that I would continue to discover and experience new limitations in my abilities - but now I was out! I was coming home! Things would only be better from now on!
I thought.
This was my Celebration.
Upon reflection, this moment brings up two sensations - joy and melancholy.
First, this is a moment of joy - let’s just call it for what it is - a moment when I am celebrating the work I have done - with my community - to bring be brought back from the hospital - now the emotions and events have all been squished together in my head - its a porridge of momentary memories - but I remember coming home - waving goodbye to the nurses - leaving the hospital - I remember a golden warmth in my household - to celebrate Christmas - and I remember that First Night - excitement - celebration - maybe the journey wasn’t over, but the end result was clear -
- and I can’t help but view this with a tinge of melancholy, because I know the difficulties and pain still to come. It’s that moment in the movie when it seems like everything is perfect, but then you look at the time and you’re…maybe 20 minutes into the film. Having seen this film before, I know the hardest parts are still ahead - but we need to be clear that the real emotion in this bundle is joy.
JOY!
Had I known the future, perhaps I wouldn’t have reveled in this with the same exuberance, but at the time I had no idea, and it didn’t matter - at that time, I don’t know. We can never have certainty about a future moment - we can make a prediction, but any prediction might easily be disrupted by a stiff breeze. What we feel NOW is true - and in that now, I felt joy.
Therefore, I’ll take the memory for what it is -
It’s a bit ignorant - yes - but that doesn’t matter- it was what it should always be.
I believe we should try to allow pure memories such as this to exist - unaffected by future memories that tint the past. Examples - this might be acceptance to a college that later turned out to be a disaster - a relationship beginning with magic and ending in catastrophe - a moment of
- ?false? - hope in recovery. The fatalist might argue that this momentary pleasure creates a false optimism - that a moment is truly happy only when we can reflect upon it from the future. To this point I argue that, as humans, we often do feel the greatest pain after the greatest joy - but if we don’t remain optimistic that we will feel such joy again, why do we try?
Returning to the film metaphor, this is when the hero has just completed some great task - maybe he’s climbed a mountain, but danger lies ahead - the movie’s not done yet. If I’m watching this film, this is when I want the camera to pull back so we - the audience - can appreciate the scenery. In recovery, as in life, there are countless mountain tops - and these are consistently followed by struggle - I suggest that when you’re at the top of the mountain, take a moment and enjoy the view.
That’s what I got - take it for what it is.
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.
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
Monday, January 8, 2018
Scene 18 - The Return...Almost
Happy New Year everybody! Its been a while since I've posted - I got caught up in the holidays activity and my end of semester teaching work...but I'm back. I've got a lot of exciting plans for this year ahead, including some future work with this piece, so please keep reading and I look forward to sharing stories with you!
But now...for the first post in the new year...
************Scene 18 - The Return...Almost*****************
For Larry, this is his second stay at the Crumley House.
Only had one accident, but two stays,
see, the first time I stayed at the Crumley house, I had just graduated high school,
and I heard all these stories in my school about people getting ready to…
go to college…get a job…I don’t know…
DO things…
and I wanted to Do things to,
and I couldn’t at the Crumley House, there are so many rules and restrictions, and I couldn’t DO all that I wanted to Do -
So I left.
I went out, found a…job…
stayed at an apartment with some -
some people I knew, and…
it was hard.
Like, no one understood -
where I was coming from, why I needed help sometimes, and…
I got real depressed.
So I thought back in my life, to when I was happier,
and I remembered my time at the Crumley House,
see there, people knew what I needed,
understood me, where I was coming from. I had friends there
and I didn’t feel…
Different.
************************************************
As a survivor, I deeply appreciate this story.
I admit that I do have an affinity towards Larry’s stories - because we are close in age - but this story is particularly moving because it begins as a story about The Return - the move from the safety of a rehabilitative environment to the noise-chaos-danger-excitement that is the modern world. This transition is one that every survivor must make - the return to one’s former life, or some variation of that, is one of the goals - spoken or unspoken - in recovery. A survivor wants to find some semblance the life that was, but moving from a hospital environment to one’s former setting - to use choice language - is a big F-in’ change. This change will cause Hope, Pain, Joy, Anger, Faith, Inspiration, Frustration….
The survivor has changed -
Yet, those in the survivor’s previous life (family, friends, colleagues…) have not - at least not to the same recognizable degree that the survivor has changed - and thus will likely not understand that magnitude of these physical and emotional changes. Supporting friends, family, colleagues say -
“You’re out of the hospital - you’re walking! You’re Alive! Oh my God - Congratulations! YOU DID IT! I’m so happy for you - now lets go hangout exactly like we did before.”
but a survivor cannot live exactly how they did before.
The inevitability of change after TBI is a theme we have harped on throughout these writings, but I am using this entry as an opportunity to recognize that, while a survivor has changed, the world that the survivor came from has not.
A survivor may understand that he or she must interact with the world in a new manner, but that world (friends, job, school…) has likely not been prepared for this, and should not be faulted for being unable to accommodate said survivor. Every person is relentlessly bombarded with difficulties to some degree, and the challenge of adapting to a survivor’s new set of skills is a burden for which most people don’t have the time. And let’s be honest, it’s not fair for people on the peripheries of a survivor’s social circle to be expected to take on such a task - a survivor should be able to call attention to his or her new abilities in any setting, but the challenge of learning how to fully use these new abilities is the survivor’s responsibility.
That said, it is tiring and may feel self-defeating to repeatedly need to explain one’s new skills - especially when those trying to listen just don’t have the training or experiences to understand the changes. In Larry’s words, “No one understood - where I was coming from, why I needed help sometimes…”
This story begins as a story about the Return, but it takes a turn when Larry decides to go back to the Crumley House - to not return - at least not yet - to continue rehabilitation in a setting that is safe and supportive.
This is NOT giving up.
This is accepting what is and adjusting plans in order to make a more complete return when the time is right - when a survivor is ready. A person cannot grow without support, and if a survivor is not ready for the Return - does not have the support he or she needs - attempting to make the transition can leave a person flat. Larry did not find the support he needed - no one’s fault, it is simply what was - and was fortunate that he had the wisdom to return to the Crumley House where he knew this support existed - where he could be his new self and more fully grow.
To finish, in Larry’s words, “…There, people knew what I needed, understood me, where I was coming from. I had friends there and I didn’t feel…different.”
But now...for the first post in the new year...
************Scene 18 - The Return...Almost*****************
For Larry, this is his second stay at the Crumley House.
Only had one accident, but two stays,
see, the first time I stayed at the Crumley house, I had just graduated high school,
and I heard all these stories in my school about people getting ready to…
go to college…get a job…I don’t know…
DO things…
and I wanted to Do things to,
and I couldn’t at the Crumley House, there are so many rules and restrictions, and I couldn’t DO all that I wanted to Do -
So I left.
I went out, found a…job…
stayed at an apartment with some -
some people I knew, and…
it was hard.
Like, no one understood -
where I was coming from, why I needed help sometimes, and…
I got real depressed.
So I thought back in my life, to when I was happier,
and I remembered my time at the Crumley House,
see there, people knew what I needed,
understood me, where I was coming from. I had friends there
and I didn’t feel…
Different.
************************************************
As a survivor, I deeply appreciate this story.
I admit that I do have an affinity towards Larry’s stories - because we are close in age - but this story is particularly moving because it begins as a story about The Return - the move from the safety of a rehabilitative environment to the noise-chaos-danger-excitement that is the modern world. This transition is one that every survivor must make - the return to one’s former life, or some variation of that, is one of the goals - spoken or unspoken - in recovery. A survivor wants to find some semblance the life that was, but moving from a hospital environment to one’s former setting - to use choice language - is a big F-in’ change. This change will cause Hope, Pain, Joy, Anger, Faith, Inspiration, Frustration….
The survivor has changed -
Yet, those in the survivor’s previous life (family, friends, colleagues…) have not - at least not to the same recognizable degree that the survivor has changed - and thus will likely not understand that magnitude of these physical and emotional changes. Supporting friends, family, colleagues say -
“You’re out of the hospital - you’re walking! You’re Alive! Oh my God - Congratulations! YOU DID IT! I’m so happy for you - now lets go hangout exactly like we did before.”
but a survivor cannot live exactly how they did before.
The inevitability of change after TBI is a theme we have harped on throughout these writings, but I am using this entry as an opportunity to recognize that, while a survivor has changed, the world that the survivor came from has not.
A survivor may understand that he or she must interact with the world in a new manner, but that world (friends, job, school…) has likely not been prepared for this, and should not be faulted for being unable to accommodate said survivor. Every person is relentlessly bombarded with difficulties to some degree, and the challenge of adapting to a survivor’s new set of skills is a burden for which most people don’t have the time. And let’s be honest, it’s not fair for people on the peripheries of a survivor’s social circle to be expected to take on such a task - a survivor should be able to call attention to his or her new abilities in any setting, but the challenge of learning how to fully use these new abilities is the survivor’s responsibility.
That said, it is tiring and may feel self-defeating to repeatedly need to explain one’s new skills - especially when those trying to listen just don’t have the training or experiences to understand the changes. In Larry’s words, “No one understood - where I was coming from, why I needed help sometimes…”
This story begins as a story about the Return, but it takes a turn when Larry decides to go back to the Crumley House - to not return - at least not yet - to continue rehabilitation in a setting that is safe and supportive.
This is NOT giving up.
This is accepting what is and adjusting plans in order to make a more complete return when the time is right - when a survivor is ready. A person cannot grow without support, and if a survivor is not ready for the Return - does not have the support he or she needs - attempting to make the transition can leave a person flat. Larry did not find the support he needed - no one’s fault, it is simply what was - and was fortunate that he had the wisdom to return to the Crumley House where he knew this support existed - where he could be his new self and more fully grow.
To finish, in Larry’s words, “…There, people knew what I needed, understood me, where I was coming from. I had friends there and I didn’t feel…different.”
Monday, November 13, 2017
Scene 17, Part 2 - A Spiritual Experience
**********Scene 17, Part 2 - A Spiritual Experience***********
And I remember
when I was ready to give up.
I was lying on my side,
on my bed at Magee rehabilitation hospital,
my back was toward the window, chest facing the lobby…
and my memory had just begun to return, so I was starting to realize
I had changed.
My skills, my brain
me - had all
changed.
So that meant my dreams - my plans - they all had to change as well.
But I didn’t know what I wanted to do Now,
I didn’t know what I Could do now -
Like, I’m being given all these Stupid tests to do -
Oh, can you swallow your food? - Yes, I can swallow -
and then when show that I Can do it, they all celebrate like I’m some…
FOUR year old -
I’M NOT FOUR!!!
And what does it matter, anyway?
As soon as I get one thing done there are ten more do and I was tired…
I wanted to rest…
I was…Done.
And I remember…Sensing someThing
come into the room through the window behind me…
And I didn’t look - I knew no one was there
I was on the sixth floor of the hospital and the window was all bared up - nothing could enter, but Some
thing came into the room…
over to me,
reached out - Touched
my back
Eased into my body.
and for just a moment, I felt…peace…
hope…
And then the sensation passed,
the -
Thing, left
but I remember that moment,
and I didn’t give up.
****************************************************************
In a previous entry, I explained my religious beliefs (My Spiritual Belief) - I am agnostic, leaning toward the atheist side of the question, yet I recognize that The Question is one that I cannot conceive of truly understanding. Thus, I admit “I do not know if there is a God”.
To expand - my questions and quandaries lead me to the suggestion of “No, there is not a God”, but throughout this blog, I highlight the importance and reality of one’s personal story. If a personal story has reality for the storyteller, how can I dispute one who - in his or her personal story - has had the experience of God. Furthermore, how can I dispute the story of such an experience when I am the storyteller.
The moment described in the scene above is what keeps this Question alive in my head. Please know, I do not take this experience as an answer of “Yes, there is a God” - I can cite hosts of articles that explain or suggest reasons for spiritual hallucinations - objectively critical articles that I would normally trust - but this experience denies and overwhelms any rational explanation.
In a previous entry (again, My Spiritual Belief), I explain my belief in a collective energy and the “serendipity of life” - and I hold to these beliefs - but the experience described above makes me want to believe in something more-guiding-higher-conscious -
Perhaps I want a Deity because it makes a better story?
Whatever the case, I’ll leave you with this - For all the fantasy and reality that these words entail:
Here is my story.
And I remember
when I was ready to give up.
I was lying on my side,
on my bed at Magee rehabilitation hospital,
my back was toward the window, chest facing the lobby…
and my memory had just begun to return, so I was starting to realize
I had changed.
My skills, my brain
me - had all
changed.
So that meant my dreams - my plans - they all had to change as well.
But I didn’t know what I wanted to do Now,
I didn’t know what I Could do now -
Like, I’m being given all these Stupid tests to do -
Oh, can you swallow your food? - Yes, I can swallow -
and then when show that I Can do it, they all celebrate like I’m some…
FOUR year old -
I’M NOT FOUR!!!
And what does it matter, anyway?
As soon as I get one thing done there are ten more do and I was tired…
I wanted to rest…
I was…Done.
And I remember…Sensing someThing
come into the room through the window behind me…
And I didn’t look - I knew no one was there
I was on the sixth floor of the hospital and the window was all bared up - nothing could enter, but Some
thing came into the room…
over to me,
reached out - Touched
my back
Eased into my body.
and for just a moment, I felt…peace…
hope…
And then the sensation passed,
the -
Thing, left
but I remember that moment,
and I didn’t give up.
****************************************************************
In a previous entry, I explained my religious beliefs (My Spiritual Belief) - I am agnostic, leaning toward the atheist side of the question, yet I recognize that The Question is one that I cannot conceive of truly understanding. Thus, I admit “I do not know if there is a God”.
To expand - my questions and quandaries lead me to the suggestion of “No, there is not a God”, but throughout this blog, I highlight the importance and reality of one’s personal story. If a personal story has reality for the storyteller, how can I dispute one who - in his or her personal story - has had the experience of God. Furthermore, how can I dispute the story of such an experience when I am the storyteller.
The moment described in the scene above is what keeps this Question alive in my head. Please know, I do not take this experience as an answer of “Yes, there is a God” - I can cite hosts of articles that explain or suggest reasons for spiritual hallucinations - objectively critical articles that I would normally trust - but this experience denies and overwhelms any rational explanation.
In a previous entry (again, My Spiritual Belief), I explain my belief in a collective energy and the “serendipity of life” - and I hold to these beliefs - but the experience described above makes me want to believe in something more-guiding-higher-conscious -
Perhaps I want a Deity because it makes a better story?
Whatever the case, I’ll leave you with this - For all the fantasy and reality that these words entail:
Here is my story.
Wednesday, November 8, 2017
REPOST - My Spiritual Beliefs
Hey everyone -
This is a repost - an entry expressing my personal answer to the question: “Do you believe in God?” I decided to repost because coming up, I have another entry that deals with that question. With this in mind, I want to remind everyone reading how I approach the Question.
Please enjoy, comment below, and share with anyone who might find this site helpful. Thanks.
****************************************************************************************************************
Following the script, the next scene in Who Am I, Again? brings up the experience of God and I feel that discussing the experience of God necessitates the question of God. Furthermore, variations of a holy experience are discussed several times in the piece, so I will take the following entry to provide my answer to the question: Do I (Lethan) believe in God?
If a label must be applied, I am agnostic - I do not claim to know if there is or is not a God. But to answer such an infinite question with a trite word or phrase - I believe/do not believe in God - seems flawed, so follow this:
We start by defining “God”. I do not believe in the personified image of God - big dude, long beard, massive finger that he points at things with - this example is comical, but images of God in human form are consistently used to present God as an understandable concept - God? We’re just like him. As a storyteller, I understand the use of this idea, but do not subscribe to it - nor do I believe that most “believers” honestly view God in this humanoid form. By my understanding, if God exists, God must be a force of perfect infinity that exceeds our even conceiving of comprehending its completeness of perfection. If a concept is, by definition, beyond comprehension, how can I even hope of comprehending of it. This leads to my agnostic view - not from a lack of thinking about the question, but a recognition that, by my logic, I cannot know. If prodded, I would place myself on the atheist side of the agnostic spectrum - I find too many logical conundrums in the concept of God and would prefer objective evidence - but similarly, when reexamining this story, I have not found a fully satisfying answer that explains divine experiences - personal or collected from interviews. For these reasons, I cannot claim to know whether God as a conscientious force exists - it is beyond me.
I do, however, believe in a collective energy - a force that might guide the course of macro and micro universal events. I use the words “might guide” because sometimes this guidance happens, and other times not. This is the energy that creates sudden serendipities from unexpected events - the odd decision to visit a new coffee shop where you meet the person who changes your life - going to work and being fired on the exact day you were planning on quitting - the situations are always specific improbabilities that, while improbable, nevertheless happen.
The serendipity of life.
When examining the timeline of my life, there are many unrepeatable moments that have brought me to my current location. These are moments that could have taken any of infinite other different directions, but for some particularity of what happened, that moment changed my life; moments in my life - apart from the accident - I think of approaching the local librarian about storytelling and being taken under his wing to find an unexpected career path - of deciding to try out a boardgames event where I met my girlfriend (now of nearly 3 years) - of visiting my philosophy professor and hearing her tell of her son’s experience teaching abroad in South Korea - the list could continue indefinitely.
I challenge you (the reader) to look at your timeline of life and recognize improbable decisions or occurrences that brought you to where you are now - maybe how you met your husband or wife, your current employment, where you currently live; something brought you to where you are now, and I suggest - more often than not - some of those events were almost absurdly improbable. It is events such as these that I feel come from the energy or serendipity of life.
In a similar way, I do feel the course of this serendipitous energy is affected by people. Groups coming together creates a powerful energy - as is demonstrated countless times in history - and if the motivation behind this energy is positive and pure, I recognize that great good can occur. Some might suggest that the energy I describe is God by another name - and I have no problem with that - I don’t use the term “God” because I do not apply an independent consciousness or motivation to the energy. I also do not imbue this energy with any objective “good” - the same way positive energy can lift one up, negative or despairing energy can drag one down and may produce a negative result.
Please recognize this is NOT a suggestion of a “alternate religion” or a substitute for religion - this is simply my views on spirituality and what I believe about divine power. I also encourage you to hold your personal beliefs, provided they do not lead to harmful action toward yourself or other people, and I am glad if your belief helps your life. As an agnostic, I acknowledge that do not have the knowledge to determine what is divinely real, but this is the set of beliefs that helps me to find peace in the incomprehensible universe.
This is where I come from when discussing God. Please note, I do not intend this belief to discredit or explain away any experiences of God - experience in any form is ineffable (too great to adequately communicate) and the experience of God is, again by definition, incomprehensible by anyone other than the person experiencing. Instead, when discussing an experience of God, I will describe what this experience represents and/or questions it raises.
This was written to explain what I believe in my spirituality and to encourage conversation. Beliefs are a near impossible thing to change through discussion, and I don’t seek to change any beliefs you have, but I would love to hear your thoughts - ideas that support or refute my beliefs will be encouraged, as long as they are delivered respectfully and without malice.
I also recognize that, as of now, these ideas are somewhat abstract and might seem a little “hocus pocus-ie” - I do not intend this and do not feel fully satisfied with my above presentation, but don't want to risk losing the focus and momentum of this blog because I’m stuck on an idea. With that in mind, I would appreciate your questions to help me recognize where I need further clarification.
Thanks for reading and I look forward to your responses.
This is a repost - an entry expressing my personal answer to the question: “Do you believe in God?” I decided to repost because coming up, I have another entry that deals with that question. With this in mind, I want to remind everyone reading how I approach the Question.
Please enjoy, comment below, and share with anyone who might find this site helpful. Thanks.
****************************************************************************************************************
Following the script, the next scene in Who Am I, Again? brings up the experience of God and I feel that discussing the experience of God necessitates the question of God. Furthermore, variations of a holy experience are discussed several times in the piece, so I will take the following entry to provide my answer to the question: Do I (Lethan) believe in God?
If a label must be applied, I am agnostic - I do not claim to know if there is or is not a God. But to answer such an infinite question with a trite word or phrase - I believe/do not believe in God - seems flawed, so follow this:
We start by defining “God”. I do not believe in the personified image of God - big dude, long beard, massive finger that he points at things with - this example is comical, but images of God in human form are consistently used to present God as an understandable concept - God? We’re just like him. As a storyteller, I understand the use of this idea, but do not subscribe to it - nor do I believe that most “believers” honestly view God in this humanoid form. By my understanding, if God exists, God must be a force of perfect infinity that exceeds our even conceiving of comprehending its completeness of perfection. If a concept is, by definition, beyond comprehension, how can I even hope of comprehending of it. This leads to my agnostic view - not from a lack of thinking about the question, but a recognition that, by my logic, I cannot know. If prodded, I would place myself on the atheist side of the agnostic spectrum - I find too many logical conundrums in the concept of God and would prefer objective evidence - but similarly, when reexamining this story, I have not found a fully satisfying answer that explains divine experiences - personal or collected from interviews. For these reasons, I cannot claim to know whether God as a conscientious force exists - it is beyond me.
I do, however, believe in a collective energy - a force that might guide the course of macro and micro universal events. I use the words “might guide” because sometimes this guidance happens, and other times not. This is the energy that creates sudden serendipities from unexpected events - the odd decision to visit a new coffee shop where you meet the person who changes your life - going to work and being fired on the exact day you were planning on quitting - the situations are always specific improbabilities that, while improbable, nevertheless happen.
The serendipity of life.
When examining the timeline of my life, there are many unrepeatable moments that have brought me to my current location. These are moments that could have taken any of infinite other different directions, but for some particularity of what happened, that moment changed my life; moments in my life - apart from the accident - I think of approaching the local librarian about storytelling and being taken under his wing to find an unexpected career path - of deciding to try out a boardgames event where I met my girlfriend (now of nearly 3 years) - of visiting my philosophy professor and hearing her tell of her son’s experience teaching abroad in South Korea - the list could continue indefinitely.
I challenge you (the reader) to look at your timeline of life and recognize improbable decisions or occurrences that brought you to where you are now - maybe how you met your husband or wife, your current employment, where you currently live; something brought you to where you are now, and I suggest - more often than not - some of those events were almost absurdly improbable. It is events such as these that I feel come from the energy or serendipity of life.
In a similar way, I do feel the course of this serendipitous energy is affected by people. Groups coming together creates a powerful energy - as is demonstrated countless times in history - and if the motivation behind this energy is positive and pure, I recognize that great good can occur. Some might suggest that the energy I describe is God by another name - and I have no problem with that - I don’t use the term “God” because I do not apply an independent consciousness or motivation to the energy. I also do not imbue this energy with any objective “good” - the same way positive energy can lift one up, negative or despairing energy can drag one down and may produce a negative result.
Please recognize this is NOT a suggestion of a “alternate religion” or a substitute for religion - this is simply my views on spirituality and what I believe about divine power. I also encourage you to hold your personal beliefs, provided they do not lead to harmful action toward yourself or other people, and I am glad if your belief helps your life. As an agnostic, I acknowledge that do not have the knowledge to determine what is divinely real, but this is the set of beliefs that helps me to find peace in the incomprehensible universe.
This is where I come from when discussing God. Please note, I do not intend this belief to discredit or explain away any experiences of God - experience in any form is ineffable (too great to adequately communicate) and the experience of God is, again by definition, incomprehensible by anyone other than the person experiencing. Instead, when discussing an experience of God, I will describe what this experience represents and/or questions it raises.
This was written to explain what I believe in my spirituality and to encourage conversation. Beliefs are a near impossible thing to change through discussion, and I don’t seek to change any beliefs you have, but I would love to hear your thoughts - ideas that support or refute my beliefs will be encouraged, as long as they are delivered respectfully and without malice.
I also recognize that, as of now, these ideas are somewhat abstract and might seem a little “hocus pocus-ie” - I do not intend this and do not feel fully satisfied with my above presentation, but don't want to risk losing the focus and momentum of this blog because I’m stuck on an idea. With that in mind, I would appreciate your questions to help me recognize where I need further clarification.
Thanks for reading and I look forward to your responses.
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Scene 17, Part 1 - The Job Ahead
************Scene 17, Part 1 - The Job Ahead***************
But more pictures begin to stick,
And I remember faces, voices, events…
and I remember it was hard, and,
Frustrating.
Embarrassing
I mean, here I was, a seventeen year old boy,
having to be retaught how to Do things I knew I should Know how to do…
like,
Like Walking -
Walking Technique…
heel, toe, heel, toe, heel toe…
But I wasn’t doing it right, so I had to keep practicing…
Heel, toe,
heel…
******************************************************
Recovery from brain injury means going through the motions of recovery - facing the reality of one’s situation and learning/remembering how to do everything you already know - again.
I remember a strange disconnect in my brain - a personal and social recognition that I should be able to do these things, and thus I attempted to complete the trials presented to me by therapists with a dismissive ease - but I couldn’t realistically complete these tasks with such ease - many could only be completed with concentrated effort and assisted focus - a plodding process. And I felt shame when my achievement of some menial task received vigorous applause - here I was, a youth on the cusp of adulthood and my rehabilitation therapists are celebrating when I complete physical and cognitive tests suitable for a toddler. My mind translated their praise into mockery.
In retrospect, I recognize that I was fortunate to have had such an encouraging team of therapists and supporters surrounding me and offering praise - an alternative could have been criticism toward my slow pace of recovery, demeaning my progress - I recognize this now, but at the time it didn’t matter because I was ashamed of my struggles.
These emotions are not unique. In my interviews I spoke with several other survivors who told me about similar embarrassment or shame, and this feeling makes sense - a survivor is discovering his or her new abilities, and these abilities are changing every day, especially during early recovery - meanwhile there is a cognitive attempt to connect the story of the past person to the person the survivor is now. In tandem with this, a survivor often hears stories of the past shared by supporters - these are stories that hold a subjective “truth” for the supporter sharing the story, but this “truth” may not coincide with the survivor’s current - or previous - self-image, and while attempting to rediscover/redefine personal identity the survivor needs to navigate this barrage of narratives seeking some more genuine personal truth while continuing to be unsure of his or her ability - all of which easily leads to the monologue:
“What did I do before? Why can’t I remember what they tell me? Was I better before? Am I okay now? If I’m okay, why the Fuck is everything so hard.”
At least, that’s the monologue I remember playing in my head.
If this monologue exists, it cannot be soothed with trite phrases encouragement - “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay” - “You just need to keep trying” - seems false. I recognize that sayings such as this are important - they should be heard and repeated, but they don’t change the reality of the situation. The process of recovery and rediscovery after TBI is hellacious drudgery, and all you can do is continue, some abilities and personality characteristics you will find again while other attributes have changed, and always the survivor must continue - one step at a time - heel, toe, heel, toe…
But there is a way to beat this - a way to win in the struggle with depressing monotony - very simply, to win is to not lose, and to lose is give up - to succumb to angst and depression - to stop.
Don’t stop.
Again -
Don’t stop.
This does not mean “Things will get better with time”, or “You’ll get through this one day” - things might and you might, but a survivor cannot rely on statements such as these - what I promise is that quitting on recovery guarantees that a fuller recovery will never happen.
Don’t stop. Win by not losing.
When I began this article, I wanted to write a script of motivational phrases and encouragements for survivors currently wading through a pool of tests and trials, but as I considered what I feel is true, I recognized that such sayings would be false. Instead, I wish to be candid in my comments to survivors - your body may never fully recover and there will likely be some difficulties that will always hamper you, but recognize that as a survivor you are ALIVE and that life is open to infinite possibility. In previous entries (Scene 6 - “God’s Lap” and Scene 12 - “It’s Not Your Time”), we have looked at the decision a survivor must make after brain injury - whether to accept the reality of the new situation after TBI or not - and, simply put, the dispiriting drudgery of recovery is part of this reality.
I do not intend this entry to be depressing - monotony is, to some extent, a part of nearly any life path - the farmer harvesting crops, the factor worker beginning a shift, the teacher grading exams - its part of human experience and, as a survivor, one must endure this in order to appreciate the glory of moments - moments that can exist for everyone - forgetting time while conversing with a new friend, becoming lost in the rhythm and harmonies of a favorite song, watching a sunset kiss the world goodnight. These are rewards that can be found when a survivor makes the choice to win - and remember - to win is to not lose.
Don’t stop.
To win is to keep the gates of endless possibility - of infinite variation open - to lose is to give up.
To lose is finite.
Win.
Don’t stop.
This was a hard one to write - please share your thoughts below.
But more pictures begin to stick,
And I remember faces, voices, events…
and I remember it was hard, and,
Frustrating.
Embarrassing
I mean, here I was, a seventeen year old boy,
having to be retaught how to Do things I knew I should Know how to do…
like,
Like Walking -
Walking Technique…
heel, toe, heel, toe, heel toe…
But I wasn’t doing it right, so I had to keep practicing…
Heel, toe,
heel…
******************************************************
Recovery from brain injury means going through the motions of recovery - facing the reality of one’s situation and learning/remembering how to do everything you already know - again.
I remember a strange disconnect in my brain - a personal and social recognition that I should be able to do these things, and thus I attempted to complete the trials presented to me by therapists with a dismissive ease - but I couldn’t realistically complete these tasks with such ease - many could only be completed with concentrated effort and assisted focus - a plodding process. And I felt shame when my achievement of some menial task received vigorous applause - here I was, a youth on the cusp of adulthood and my rehabilitation therapists are celebrating when I complete physical and cognitive tests suitable for a toddler. My mind translated their praise into mockery.
In retrospect, I recognize that I was fortunate to have had such an encouraging team of therapists and supporters surrounding me and offering praise - an alternative could have been criticism toward my slow pace of recovery, demeaning my progress - I recognize this now, but at the time it didn’t matter because I was ashamed of my struggles.
These emotions are not unique. In my interviews I spoke with several other survivors who told me about similar embarrassment or shame, and this feeling makes sense - a survivor is discovering his or her new abilities, and these abilities are changing every day, especially during early recovery - meanwhile there is a cognitive attempt to connect the story of the past person to the person the survivor is now. In tandem with this, a survivor often hears stories of the past shared by supporters - these are stories that hold a subjective “truth” for the supporter sharing the story, but this “truth” may not coincide with the survivor’s current - or previous - self-image, and while attempting to rediscover/redefine personal identity the survivor needs to navigate this barrage of narratives seeking some more genuine personal truth while continuing to be unsure of his or her ability - all of which easily leads to the monologue:
“What did I do before? Why can’t I remember what they tell me? Was I better before? Am I okay now? If I’m okay, why the Fuck is everything so hard.”
At least, that’s the monologue I remember playing in my head.
If this monologue exists, it cannot be soothed with trite phrases encouragement - “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay” - “You just need to keep trying” - seems false. I recognize that sayings such as this are important - they should be heard and repeated, but they don’t change the reality of the situation. The process of recovery and rediscovery after TBI is hellacious drudgery, and all you can do is continue, some abilities and personality characteristics you will find again while other attributes have changed, and always the survivor must continue - one step at a time - heel, toe, heel, toe…
But there is a way to beat this - a way to win in the struggle with depressing monotony - very simply, to win is to not lose, and to lose is give up - to succumb to angst and depression - to stop.
Don’t stop.
Again -
Don’t stop.
This does not mean “Things will get better with time”, or “You’ll get through this one day” - things might and you might, but a survivor cannot rely on statements such as these - what I promise is that quitting on recovery guarantees that a fuller recovery will never happen.
Don’t stop. Win by not losing.
When I began this article, I wanted to write a script of motivational phrases and encouragements for survivors currently wading through a pool of tests and trials, but as I considered what I feel is true, I recognized that such sayings would be false. Instead, I wish to be candid in my comments to survivors - your body may never fully recover and there will likely be some difficulties that will always hamper you, but recognize that as a survivor you are ALIVE and that life is open to infinite possibility. In previous entries (Scene 6 - “God’s Lap” and Scene 12 - “It’s Not Your Time”), we have looked at the decision a survivor must make after brain injury - whether to accept the reality of the new situation after TBI or not - and, simply put, the dispiriting drudgery of recovery is part of this reality.
I do not intend this entry to be depressing - monotony is, to some extent, a part of nearly any life path - the farmer harvesting crops, the factor worker beginning a shift, the teacher grading exams - its part of human experience and, as a survivor, one must endure this in order to appreciate the glory of moments - moments that can exist for everyone - forgetting time while conversing with a new friend, becoming lost in the rhythm and harmonies of a favorite song, watching a sunset kiss the world goodnight. These are rewards that can be found when a survivor makes the choice to win - and remember - to win is to not lose.
Don’t stop.
To win is to keep the gates of endless possibility - of infinite variation open - to lose is to give up.
To lose is finite.
Win.
Don’t stop.
This was a hard one to write - please share your thoughts below.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)