December 17, 2018

Discovery

**“Life is too short to be at war with yourself.” -unknown.**

After a traumatic brain injury our souls tend to get lost in the fog. Actually, after **any** serious trauma, every person needs some time to get a strong foothold on reality once more. However, with strokes and injuries of similar circumstances there can be personality changes. I remember my Mother saying “You’re still there!” As I giggled with joy at the fact, She had recognized in me a character trait that had been unchanged by my stroke. Much like Robin Williams is not recognized by the lost boys as Peter Pan; I had to let my personality shine through so I could be recognized. I was so afraid that besides stealing my life circumstances the stroke had taken my personality too. I spent a great deal of time questioning the what-ifs, buts, and making excuses. Such self doubt led to me over explaining my intentions and questioning myself. Resulting in a further retreat of my personality. It was when I finally let go, and receded into peace while my circumstances washed around me like water; that I was able to find my way through the fog of such a traumatic event. If only I had learned to let go sooner, how much further along would I be now? I was clinging to life as it was, rather then how it IS. Accepting your circumstances doesn’t mean you’re going to settle for being stuck, quite the opposite! Instead, through acceptance comes peace and THEN the real battle can begin. We all have a variety of battles to fight on our individual paths through life. However, that fight becomes much more difficult when your own ego gets in the way. When you finally embrace the path you’re walking, it is then you can choose which way to go. The fun part comes, when you realize that can be ANY direction. As a survivor of a trauma you have been given the tools to write a new book. I only advise to aim for that book to be on the best sellers list.

March 13, 2016

I am a lost boy

“The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the core of strength within you that survives all hurt.”

-Max Lerner.

This song has been haunting me, echoing through my mind like a voice down an empty hallway. We have all been “lost boys,” at one point or another. Whether we’re lonely, trying to find our way, or just plain old mischievous and free of obligations. The funny thing is, the lost boys actually had a large group of friends, yet were still considered lost.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3m_V1XNPxA&w=560&h=315%5D

Perhaps you too have been part of a crowd but still felt like you didn’t quite belong. I first heard the song wafting over the radio airwaves on a dark night time drive, and again at a beautiful dance recital that was punctuated with the feeling of endings(a last dance for High School Senior students. I love music because it has a way of expressing and relating nearly every emotion through it’s sonic landscape. I always said when I died I wanted to become a music note. As a musical note I could weave in and out of space and be emitted over waves of sound. As well as touch people’s hearts. When you’re a music note your essentially immortal and always a part of something beautiful. Of course we can’t talk about Peter Pan without mentioning Captain Hook. What is your personal Captain Hook? Because we all have one. He comes in the form of opposition, negativity, and hardships. When we’re looking to find our way and having hope for a future each of us becomes a “lost boy.” Then, we grow up much to our chagrin and the tribe of lost boys scatters. No longer do you have that adolescent camaraderie and sense of adventure. As the world becomes less new and your feet change sizes, so does our reality and the people in it. Suddenly adult obligations or responsibilities begin to seep into and take apart the tribe of lost boys. However, the invisible thread that at once connected us is always there. We may grow and change but our hearts and spirits remain largely the same. Sometimes the wind will carry a tune to my ear or a familiar smell to my nose and gently remind me of my tribe. Although they’re scattered about I know that their still there. Having a stroke has displaced me as a lone tribe member looking for the path to our hideout in the woods. As I wander I keep an eye out for it to emerge once again from the shrouded trees. Dear friend, may We all discover that path and find our way back to belonging.

pals & pixie dust,

bleu

July 23, 2011

The North Star

I used to want to be Peter Pan, and if not Peter Pan certainly one of the Lost Boys running wild in the woods with a mess of hair and a wooden sword shoved into a makeshift belt, whooping indian calls with feathers in my hair and dirt under my nails, not to mention being able to fly. Who am I kidding? I still want all that, just fly towards the second star to the right and straight on til’ morning.Who wouldn’t want to live here!?

Posts Tagged ‘Peter Pan’