Stuck in limbo suffering from post concussion syndrome I feel trapped by the limits of my own miss functioning brain. During this time it’s hard to avoid walking the path of fear which inevitably leads to doubt. My feet are too inclined to march downhill. As much as I want to take the road less travelled I’m tired and worn down by pain and despair.
What I have left is my imagination. I can push forward far enough into the future that I can see myself as well again. When I close my eyes to what is I can open my heart to what will be. This is my salvation but it is also my choice. I paint the future with my mind. The colours and brushes I choose define the path I will walk.
I paint joy, abundance and freedom. I paint laughter, travel and acceptance. In my imagination I am. All that I want to be.
Who am I when I don’t act?
Who am I when I don’t react?
Who am I when I don’t do?
Who am I when I don’t think?
Is this the existential crisis or the question that sets us free?
I know that I am not the things I do so what am I then?
I know I’m not the clothes I wear or the skin I live in so what am I then?
I know I’m not the things I say so who is saying them?
If I do nothing what am I?
If I do nothing am I still worthy of love? Is the love I receive in this world based on doing or thinking or looking a certain way or acting in predictable, prescribed ways?
Would you still love me if I stopped doing and only was? Would I still exist?
Is my soul just a waft of smoke contained in bone and skin?
Find me on Twitter @tallerthanilook
I am eternal
I am blissful
I am joyous
I am powerful, ambitious, creative and capable
I am flowing, happy, stress free
I am abundant, limitless and the master of my destiny
I feel giddy with possibilities and excitement about how good life is.
It was as if someone pulled the rug out from under me; like a gust of wind picked up and blew apart the house of cards I’d been diligently building. I tried to carry on, push through and catch up. Ignoring the signs my body was desperate for me to read, I carried on… until I absolutely couldn’t. The pain literally shut me down – first body, then mind, then soul.
I’m working on living an authentic life. Trying to be mindful, aware, open and accepting. I’m determined to let go but trying to not try is harder than it sounds. But I’m not alone in this endeavour. I’ve got support. From Elkhart Tolle to Bruce Lipton to my dear friend Liza Hindmarch I’ve learned that our mental state is not meant to be reactionary, it’s meant to be creative. Our thoughts are powerful contributors to our experience and we’d all do well to make them supportive rather than destructive.
So what happened? Why, four months after a car accident which left me with whiplash and a concussion, after rounds of acupuncture, chiropractor visits, guided meditations, massage and rest, did my symptoms suddenly return with a vengeance? The pain and mental disconnect became so bad I took medical leave from a job I love, sequestered myself away from the children I adore and wept in bed for weeks. I leaned more heavily on my husband than ever before and resented myself for having to do it. I was so far from accepting and allowing that I gobbled up pain meds like candy and drilled my knuckles as deep and hard into my temples as I could muscle. The CT, MRI, ENT and blood work all revealed a healthy body. Doctors postulated around the headaches, selecting new pain meds almost daily, but despite the pharmacopoeia that was my purse, the pain endured and the wooziness remained. As I write now, my brain feels like some wires are loose. My capacity to function has returned enough for me to be awake and partake more in the day, but I’m still recovering. I’m still frightened and fragile and far from myself.
This is post concussion syndrome. It’s a medical word to describe feeling messed up for weeks , months or years following a head injury. It’s invisible, and insufferable. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. But there is a lesson here… I will uncover the message my body is sending me.