I have lived with a brain injury for 25 years now. I am learning it all the time and it is moving all the time. Not physically moving as in location, but moving as in impact, influence. A brain injury, or, to unveil the truth with greater accuracy, brain damage, is never a fixed thing. Its daily role in life can be influenced by many things: fatigue, hunger, weather, sound, noise and so on. Its role changes with the passage of years too. As the body’s physiology changes, so does the impact of the injury.
In my view none of this is insurmountable, if you practice the art of acceptance.
Many if not most would agree that acceptance is the hardest of tasks. But, it is also, in so many ways, the most rewarding. Acceptance gets you off the starting line because once you’ve accepted the reality you’re in, you have freed yourself to manage it. Acceptance brings freedom and returns you to you. You get to realize you have a relationship with what you are experiencing; you get to realize that the light and value and ineffable wonder that really is you is in no way diminished. You get to realize you are not defined by the life experiences that orbit around you, experiences that include medical and emotional conditions, addictions, personal histories, fears and worries along with financial stressors and memories. In other words, the all of what you experience. When you realize this you get to discover or re-discover that you are the light of you, the nexus of you. And when you accept live the moment you are in, you are released into a sense of freedom, and with this freedom comes a remarkable peace.
Today fatigue is on me. I very much want to read, but when I pick up a book that I have been loving, my brain injury gives me three or four lines before it says, Not now. And so it is not now. And that is okay. Were I to struggle with this truth, I would miss the beauty of this day, the magic of the clouds in the sky, and the clear fresh cleansing smell of fall drifting through my home. A smell that brings with it the joyous fragrance of a remarkable peace. I’d also miss the pleasure of writing to you.