ReBuildingYou.com - ReBuild Your Life After Trauma...

Choosing Rehab...

2009-08-27T13:13:00.007-07:00

The other day I received this letter from Adam, which he has given me permission to share with you. Since then I have contacted the Brain Injury Society where he lives and found him the names of 3 rehabilitation hospitals that can help him and a hyperbaric oxygen center close to where he lives. I've also blended and reprinted the information that I gathered, while doing this search, to help guide him in his choice - CLICK HERE. I'll keep you posted on new developments and hopefully bring you some photos too.

I hope that his story will help spur you on to find some rehab if you're considering it. These are some steps to help you get started:

contact your local Association or Society (cancer, brain injury etc) - you can often find them by Googling them
email them and ask for a list of facilities in your area that could help you
follow my RBY guide.

I know that when I took these steps, nearly 25 years ago now, I was in pretty bad shape, like Adam. When you're in that place you feel desperate and alone. But with hard work - which I was willing to do and I can see Adam is willing to do too - miracles happen. I pray that when Adam gets out of rehab we can meet up and dance together! Good luck Adam... If you want to wish him luck too, please add your wishes with the 'comment' button. Or EMAIL ME and I will pass on your wishes to him. Thank you!

Hello, My name is Adam Rogers. And I am going to tell you a strange, but very true story. And ask you for some help.

Five years back, Sept. 23, 2003 to be exact, I was in a near fatal motorcycle accident. And I was not speeding or wasted. I do not remember it, or any of the two years prior. So here it sis, in a nutshell.

I was traveling home on my motorcycle to my wife and two children, on highway 1, just outside of Carmel, CA, when I ran into 6, I am told, dead Wild Boar, lying on the highway. Anyway, I was thrown from the motorcycle and sailed through the air. Luckily for me my 30+ years of martial arts training paid off. As I tucked and rolled. The move definitely saved my life. But, as I was thrown ahead of the motorcycle, it caught up to me and hit my head. So I suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury.

I was in a coma for 30 days. And in, what I am told is a semi-coma for five months after. I am at home now, but am disabled. I cannot walk. And not because of loss of limbs. As I am very strong and can stand easily. It is a balance issue. As I have none. My doctor says that the nerves in my ‘core’ are damagd.

It is just very difficult. As I am very strong. As at the time of the accident I was a US amatuer middleweight kickboxing champion.
So now I am now begging you for some help. I want to walk. Don’t get me wrong. I am thankful to be alive. Just, not like this. I can’t even wheel myself in my wheel chair. As when I hit, like I said I tucked and rolled. And I landed on my left shoulder. Breaking my left clavicle. I am at the end of my rope. So I am looking for some live in rehab.

I will tell you my thoughts. As I sit here in my wheel chair I cannot sit forward. I try, but cannot. I am sure this is the problem. I canot even use cane. As I am so physically strong that I throw it. And as I said, I broke my left clavicle, so cannot use my left hand or arm. Can you, will you help me? Adam...

Hula-Hooping!

2009-08-24T22:26:00.006-07:00

I've been slow and infrequent at posting new blogposts - several reasons but no real excuse... I can never get the photos loaded properly? So many things happen every day and it's quicker and easier to Twitter! Which I do too since our last blog - and we've gained over 400 followers since then! Yay! On Sunday I had 3 guests sitting drinking coffee and eating omelettes on my deck - sheer heaven. Martin Guay of Total Biology was here with my good friends Marilyn and Rose. Rose brought her hoop! Rose has used the hoop to recover her health after a long and very nasty bout with cancer - and can do tricks as you can see! And Marilyn amazed everyone - including herself! - by keeping the hoop going for ages - despite severe myelopathy. Her core strength was fabulous - we think because of pilates. Hooping is great for fitness and it improves co-ordination and general stamina and health. Exercise is one of the most important things when you ReBuild - along with everything else! The difference in the quality of life and the speed of healing is huge - I notice immediately if I slack off! Pilates, ball classes, dancing (salsa, bachata and ballroom this week!), HOOPING, hiking up a mountain (small one!) and walking on the beach are just some of what we've been doing between us. Ooooo! I want to add that I've been doing my 'other' exercises too?! Check out this great video of Jack Lalanne, now over 94 and healthy... It makes me cry with laughter, I just love it! Now if I stop here and keep my blogs short they'll be easier to read and easier to post too! With love, Julie

Progress?

2009-08-14T20:47:00.007-07:00

Five 5 days ago - I was lying here on my bed - where I am right now - wondering how the heck I could turn what I'm spending hours doing into a supporting, full-time (or part-time) real employment? So my baby son - who's 19 years old now! - handed me a tissue and told me to start twittering. Shut up and start twittering. Now! I had no idea what he meant. But I trusted him. So I tried. Slowly - and not so slowly - the wheels began to turn and I started to get more visitors... It's working.

And any bits of advice from anyone reading this - as to how I could start to change this 'good idea, Julie' into 'Yes! This idea rocks!" - please email and share them. I'd love to hear from you.

I have a sneaking feeling that rebuilding people is very much like rebuilding your business... Including a business online? And rebuilding and building are pretty much the same? Here's a picture of my friend Dom helping me twitter!

If that's true, then sharing what we know and supporting each other is what this is all about... In all kinds of ways.

So I guess the next move is to do more of the same. Daily. And to see if I can get photos of everyone who helps me, laying on my bed?! Yay!!

Take Step After Step, Even In The Dark...

2009-07-19T11:18:00.007-07:00

I want to tell you about something that I'm thinking - and wondering if you agree or not?! It doesn't seem to be about how bad we are (in terms of hurt after some kind of trauma). It seems to be more about if we want to put in enough of the right sort of effort to make a change. Do we want to walk. Want to get better. A friend of mine who had cancer hated those words - and they may be BS... I don't know.

It's not easy. Sometimes we all have real, real, real horrible days. I had those days and still do sometimes. But overall, we just have to keep going. And if we do, even though we often can't see the daily progress, it is there. Progress happens. We have to keep taking step after step, even in the dark... In the early stages Pilates is the best form of exercise I found - and I tried everything. Pilates and walking - on flat ground and then on uneven ground, such as the grass in the park or the beach. A pilates class is the best but there is a DVD here which is very useful to practice with - just click on the photo or HERE.

I was quite excited to notice something last night... I went to a salsa dance club. Five years ago, the dancing seemed too fast for me to do. Way too fast. I took lessons - tons of lessons - and then slowly, after about a year, the dancing seemed to slow down and I could do it. Magical! I had a great couple of years. There's a good DVD of salsa lessons here - click on the photo above or HERE...

Then I had this other accident almost 3 years ago - just a minor car accident and whiplash. I didn't go dancing at all for over a year and when I did, it was just incredibly fast again and there was no way I could do it. I was so upset. I went several times (just in case I'd been wrong?!) and every time it was way too fast. I still took lessons, although all of the progress I'd made before had just disappeared and I had to start from scratch. First I was too dizzy to spin at all. Then, slowly I could spin just once now and again...

Last night, finally, I noticed the dancing seemed to be a tiny bit slower again! Gingerly I tried, with a partner I knew from lessons - thank you Joe. I found I could manage a little. At last! It had been 3 whole years and a ton of lessons since I was able to dance. I was over the moon!

Stamina is something else and is still a problem for me - I used to be able to work full time and do 3 lessons a week plus go out dancing - and more. For a long while - over a year - I was able to do nothing other than rehab in the hospital. Slowly I added walks on the beach and kept up my vitamin schedule. Now I'm working just part-time and can only manage one lesson a week and the odd evening out. But that's better then a year ago and I think it still getting better - I just can't always see it. I have to take my own advice and be patient and keep trying too!

I guess what I'm saying is this: if you keep trying then slowly - very slowly - things will come into focus again. They will slow down, as it were. It's not easy to keep going when you think you see impossibility around you. But somehow you have to keep going. Eventually the impossible may become possible.

Have a lovely sunny day, with a hug, Julie

A Double - no, Triple - Celebration!

2009-07-07T07:06:00.008-07:00

HAPPY BLOGGERS DAY!

Happy Canada Day (July 1st) and Independence Day (July 4th) - and may I also declare this (Jul 7th) Bloggers Day...

My hat is off to all the bloggers out there. It's tough to find the time to actually go and be part of celebrations, photograph them, download your pictures, photoshop them, write a blog and upload your finished photos.

When I started my blog, I only allowed 5 - 10 minutes every day to do it! Ha! It takes over an hour sometimes - so I now have a new appreciation of all the blogs I read.

I had another realization the other day too: one of my favourite bloggers didn't blog and I felt a loss? I was a bit surprised because I had always wondered what the real value was (to be honest) and did I really want to know what was going on for everybody? But. Turns out I do! It's become a very integral part of me. I have several blogs and update emails (as I call them) delivered to my inbox every day. And although on busy days I only read the subject line, on others I open and read bits and pieces that are relevant to me to grab my attention. It's become an important part of my everyday life and my personal ReBuilding.

And I miss you - them (my blogs!) - when they're not there.

So Happy Blogging Day!

And sincere thanks to the policeman who allowed us to park so we could see the fireworks from the car - disability is much easier to bear when officials use a sense of fairness together with the rules... And rooves of cars are so much more friendly than wheelchairs!

Last Day On The Road...

2009-06-16T19:48:00.007-07:00

Today we drove through extremes of scenery - from arid desert-like hills with salt bushes and great chasms - to the alpine, twisting roads of the Fraser Canyon. We passed gold mining rivers and dusty towns that had come and gone with the gold rush. We passed tourist attractions and run down roadside stops - including one totally over-the-top Elvis themed cafe run by a very unhappy man... Somehow we missed Hope, where we intended to stop for a while and drove on to Chilliwack. Neither of us were ready to end our holiday and enter the so-called civilized world... We stopped and Marilyn soothed her angst with a fabulous camera. I bought a part for my GPS and a teeshirt. Eventually we could delay it no longer and drove the last few miles. Our week had been great and after we polished up the motorhome and left it in my friend's field, we bought some of the delicious Blackberry Wine - the one that goes so well with white chocolate fudge - to tide us over until the next trip.

Thursday

2009-06-13T20:01:00.003-07:00

I woke up late and took a coffee and chair over to the lakeside. The mosquitos swarmed me but I tried to ignore them and drink in the serenity all around me. Suddenly, above the trickling and lapping sound of the lake, I could hear slow, deep rolls of distant thunder.
We were in a valley with steep, rolling mountains covered in blackened pine-beetled trees as far as the eye could see.

Earlier we had seen a bear, calmly eating grass and I imagined the forests around me teaming with wildlife that I couldn’t see. It took us an hour to wash ourselves and last nights dishes and to get our rig ready for the road. Just as we were about to leave there was a violent crack of thunder and huge drops of rain started to fall. As we drove away, everything had turned grey, little rivulets formed and the sound of thunder and rain on the metal roof of the motorhome sank both Marilyn and I into a kind of reverie.

Wednesday

2009-06-13T16:08:00.008-07:00

After polishing and cleaning up and filling the camper with water – and sharing a fabulous brunch with Allan, we were on the road again, feeling satisfied – even exuberant - about our trip. We left Prince George and drove through rusted brown forests destroyed by the pine beetle – Julie had not realized how serious the pine beetle problem was. We were saddened to see thousands upon thousands of acres of devastation.

Next stop Barkerville. What we hadn’t realized was that this historic gold-mining town had closed at least 3 hours before we arrived. There were chains on the gates – but a guardian angel appeared and agreed to give us a personal tour in his trusty pickup. It was such a treat to wander through the deserted streets – without tourists it was so much easier to imagine life as it was when the town was built in 1858. The very first town in BC. I was thrilled to find a library and even more thrilled to sit inside and check out the dusty exhibits.

We found another beautiful spot by the side of the road next to a huge lake without a house in site. This time I entertained Julie with stories of bears who were clever enough to open doors. Good thing we have a fierce guard dog who barks at her own tail! After three hours of swatting mosquitos, we fell asleep.

Monday - D-Day (day of the conference)

2009-06-13T15:51:00.003-07:00

At 7am Allan had the coffee on and wordlessly we went through all the usual morning rituals. Both of us had a whole swarm of butterflies in our stomachs! Just minutes before our presentation, we learned that the Mac can’t just plug into the projector and we needed a special connector. ‘Beyond Hope’s’ wonderful IT men – thank you Roy and Nathan – went out shopping for us and all was well that ended so very well.

As I was sitting frozen – and zombie-like – knowing that everything that could be going wrong seemed to be happening. Julie sneaked out of the room and discovered that the IT people brought back the wrong connector. The presentation was only 15 minutes away… After a few more technical disasters attended to by our heroic IT guys and a last-minute room change, Julie and I began our session. The next hour and a half passed in a blur and we were left with the glowing feeling that our talk had been well received.

The rest of the conference was fantastic – it was neat being able to put a face to some of the names I’ve only read about. We also got to visit the Chief Librarian’s corn snake, Darth Slitherous, who resides in the children’s area and feasts on a diet of weekly mouse. The next day felt like a huge hangover – despite which we were at the conference by 11 o’clock so that we could enjoy some of the other sessions including a fabulous yoga session.

Sunday

2009-06-13T15:32:00.011-07:00

I woke up at 5 am to watch the sunrise. I sat enthralled looking at the birds on a wire and ducks playing.

The RV behaved today. So did we! We took our time driving through sleepy little, pine-beetle infested towns in the interior and periodically sun-bathing by the side of the road.

Eventually we arrived in Prince George where my friend Allan welcomed us with open arms. We parked behind his house - the RV had become my second home and we still slept in it. However we did spend hours in Allan’s amazing massage chair. Comfort camping at its best!

We had a minor technical glitch the night before the presentation. After backing up the Mac, my presentation disappeared. I was beside myself with worry – and Julie’s calm demeanor made me even more furious. Eventually we found my presentation in the “Time Machine” – I love PCs!

Saturday

2009-06-13T14:36:00.015-07:00

Waking up this morning was a slow process and it didn’t happen until 10:30am. After peeking through the curtains, I realized we were only 10 feet away from the edge of a ravine! And sure enough, there was the waterfall we heard the night before. Somehow, the scary monsters and angry rapids of the night before had turned into tranquil, moss-covered trees and gentle running waters. Having a disability presents numerous challenges – part of me wanted to climb rocks and explore our surroundings - the other part of me realized that myelopathy makes it difficult for me even to walk.

However, I pushed limits and pre-conceived ideas firmly out of my mind and climbed the darn rocks. What a great start to the day.

When we finally filled up with the elusive propane and bought a few groceries, we were serenaded by a live, three piece band playing “When the Saints come marching in” – fabulous! The day was full of small adventures. We started our pilgrimage of local libraries at the Yale Public Library, which turned out to be a great little place attached to the elementary school - and only open 3 days a week (we lucked out in that one of the days was today).

Julie conquered her fear of heights by dangling hundreds of feet above the boiling waters of Hells Gate just outside of Boston Bar, BC. And I laid down on a suspension bridge made of strong, steel mesh with the rushing waters just below me. I have been testing my limits today walking up and down slopes and standing for long periods of time at a museum about salmon spawning in the Fraser River.

The terrain beyond Hope is spectacular. We began our journey surrounded by alpine mountains and the awe-inspiring Fraser canyon. Slowly the hills became less jagged and steep (the RV – or Julie – was relieved) and there were valleys, some of them quite desert like. I discovered that Julie is obsessed with trains – we stopped, watched and filmed 4 huge trains, each with more than 100 carriages – all within the space of an hour. We drove to an odd little town called 100-Mile-House, where we spent the night on a lakefront next to a racetrack.

Video of Marilyn on the bridge.

Click here to see Julie watching the trains.

Day 2 - Roadtrip to Beyond Hope...

2009-06-09T14:27:00.008-07:00

Day 2 – Friday June 5, 2009

Happy 19th birthday Thomas! ReBuildingYou’s talented systems executive becomes an adult!

Julie and I woke up to the sound of a donkey braying – after all, it is spring and love is in the air (men looking for sex are damn noisy!).

Julie spent the morning pulling weeds, while I made myself comfortable with a book on a wooden swing under a shady oak tree. We took a picnic lunch to the beach and I tested my walking powers on the pebbly beach. Life doesn’t get much better than this!

Our goal that evening was to reach Hope – and, really, we needed to leave right away… However, it was just too tempting to have a FAR INFRARED sauna and a long shower in Karen’s executive suite before we left. We drank glasses of ionized water and learned just how much better – and cheaper – this is for us compared to Evian (or wine).

Nine o’clock found us on the road - and excited to be on our way after a great day. There were a few technical glitches with the RV – something about propane, duel fuel, a leaky water tank, gauges that didn’t work, a broken GPS holder-thingy and an airlock. Not to mention that we are both directionally challenged at night and had a hard time finding east! Somehow we made it to Hope – by 1:00 am!

Just as we limped into Hope (we were dangerously low on propane) the engine sputtered, refused to switch to gasoline and died. This was not a good place to stop – on a bend, with the threat of a semi whisking around the corner at any moment.

At that moment, I panicked while Julie stayed calm and finished making our curry. Apparently the engine just needed a ‘little time’. Luckily after we were happily fed, the RV started (thank you god!). However, two miles up the road the engine died for a second time – we weren’t sure why? Everything was pitch black and we couldn’t even see the stars. We were in the middle of the forest with huge pines on either side – in the background we could hear the angry rush of a waterfall and rapids (too close for comfort). We were tired… We needed to rest.

This time I stayed calm and started telling Julie about the Highway of Tears story. Then – being in an RV – I got into my pajamas, brushed my teeth and went straight to sleep. Julie spent the next two hours scared out of her wits, with an axe beside her bed (I had the pepper spray!). As I drifted off to sleep, a wolf was howling in the background and questions about my sanity did cross my mind...

Julie and I have embarked on a strange and wonderful adventure. We are travelling to Prince George in an RV to present at the Beyond Hope library conference. Our session is called “ReBuilding Health from the Ground Up” based on the best example of ‘grass roots’ health information we know – our website www.ReBuildingYou.

Let me backtrack and tell you a little about myself. I am the new creative director of ReBuildingYou.com and a passionate librarian and advocate. And as you probably know, Julie is a counsellor and founder of ReBuildingYou and we are traveling up to Prince George to present our brand new model of consumer health information – a system that will focus on the lived experiences of clients.

Roadtrip! Prince George Library's conference, 'Beyond Hope'

2009-06-09T14:16:00.012-07:00

Day 1 – Thursday June 4, 2009

Julie and I decide to take leave of our senses – and Victoria – and drive to Prince George in a 1982 RV (we are not sure if the brakes work and there seems to be a hole in the water tank). Is this decision in any way a result of Julie’s brain injury? No! Not one bit. We both have learned that in order to make life truly worth living it’s really necessary to push boundaries and take chances. This sounds like one of those times?

The ferry trip was almost too easy. Our first stop was just over the U.S. border at a beautiful retreat in Poi nt Robe rts, owned by Karen Stanwood and offering luxurious hospitality just one hour south of Vancouver. Midnight found us sitting on lawnchairs, in waist-high grass with a glass of chardonnay, gazing at the full moon.

Julie and I have embarked on a strange and wonderful adventure. We are travelling to Prince George in an RV to present at the Beyond Hope library conference. Our session is called “ReBuilding Health from the Ground Up” based on the best example of ‘grass roots’ health information we know – our website www.ReBuildingYou.

Let me backtrack and tell you a little about myself. I am the new creative director of ReBuildingYou.com and a passionate librarian and advocate. And as you probably know, Julie is a counsellor and founder of ReBuildingYou and we are traveling up to Prince George to present our brand new model of consumer health information – a system that will focus on the lived experiences of clients.

Love and the Courage to Grow - or ReBuild

2009-05-13T15:53:00.010-07:00

On the heels of the article about bullying - and images of hate and unhappiness in homes, schools, camps, police stations everywhere and countless other places - comes this week's article about love. Love and the courage to grow.

Facing your past is not easy. It requires great courage.

But the rewards are great. Freedom. Confidence. Trust - trust in others because of trust in yourself.

This man, Tupac Shakur, who is a shining hero for so many of our youth, had the courage to face his own past and to try and help others who were walking in his shoes. His beautiful book of rap poetry The Rose That Grew From Concrete is well worth a read.

The following poem is an example of the amazing goodies that arrive in email inboxes sometimes! Check it out...

Loved…

The path to healing is one which leads into discomfort

There is no easy way to open old wounds without allowing them to bleed

And pain is so often the price of awareness, wisdom and love

Warriors may choose to walk alone - experiencing life’s dramas with power and fortitude

Crying in silence and dying in isolation

They become the heroes – the glorified

But rarely the loved

Love comes in sharing, watching, feeling and allowing my pain to mix with yours

It is in these shared experiences I find my strength to face life’s dramas with faith and confidence

For I am not alone

Your tears have become my strength, my courage to let go of my own

I treasure the tears we have share just as I treasure our joy

It leads me down my path less afraid to bleed

Taking the steps to healing – not dying in isolation

No hero

Worn and torn and LOVED!

Put a Stop to Bullying

2009-05-06T19:05:00.011-07:00

Recently I've been reminded again recently of how commonplace bullying is. After all bullying is just taking advantage - and using whatever we need to do that - to get our own way. And as humans are naturally motivated to fulfill their own needs and urges, it's not too much of a stretch to see how bullying can sneak in...

There is so much bullying around us: kids who bully other kids at school; a parent who bullies the other parent - which their kids see and learn and often feel the brunt of; parents who bully children and kids who bully their parents; teachers who bully students; employers bullying employees; POLICE BULLYING teenagers. The list is almost endless. Put an end to hate and refuse to stand by and watch a bully abuse others - anywhere... Even if it's 'not your concern' gently and quietly take a stand and witness fairness and justice. Bullies shy away from an audience...

This week, among several other kinds of abuse, I heard a sad - and very, very familiar - story about police bullying. I can imagine the frustrations involved in policing young folk, particularly young guys. But please, Mr Policeman, you were a young person too once. If we can show respect, compassion - and of course justice - to our youth, society will reap the benefits in spades when these young people become adults.

And now the article:

Bullying. Recognizing it is the first step...
-the first of many articles by my mother and I!!

If there is anything about us that is 'different' - or sometimes just ‘new' - there's a good chance that someone will find that reason enough to bully and tease. Particularly if that potential bully is insecure, deep down, themselves...

Of course the disabled - and particularly the newly disabled - can be ripe targets of bullying. They are often dependent and/or young and/or particularly trusting. I was intrigued when I read this article from a very special woman in her seventh decade, reflecting on a subject that has touched her life - and in turn has touched so many lives. I admire her being willing to share her experiences with us all and have the hope that somehow her story will help all of us become a little more aware of this insidious behaviour. If you know of someone who is suffering bullying, please get help - call your local police, child help line or local social services. When the bullying has physically stopped, let a COUNSELLOR show you how to heal the emotional damage...

This is what my very special guest has to say...

"Sadly, many of us go have to go through a form of bullying it seems just to survive our daily lives. It can even start in school when we are very young - and how hurtful it can be. It can make a person reluctant to make decisions in the future for fear that they may be made to look silly or maybe come up against another bully. As I know only too well... A lifetime of hurt and baggage before we even graduate childhood.

Bullying within a marriage is completely unforgivable - because the bully is someone you've given your heart to. In fact sometimes a young person or even a small child can also experience that kind of behaviour from parents or siblings at home... The very people and place we need more than anything to be our safe haven.

Unfortunately, there are deep undercurrents of patterns at work here. Someone who is the victim of bullying as a child may, despite promising themselves that they would never bully anyone, end up an unwitting bully. And so the pattern continues. One fairly sure way of breaking this chain is through education and self-development through counselling. Very powerful...

Wherever bullying takes place, particularly if the bully is someone we have given our love and trust to, the victim loses their self-confidence. They have no idea what the day will bring - sometimes a good day but always the doubt that maybe this day they will be punished either physically or mentally. So never quite sure what the day will bring for them and never being able to enjoy the feeling of ease, safety and peace - which I wish with all my heart for everyone.

Sometimes victims feel that everything is his/her fault. They will even make excuses for the bully. With adult victims friends and family might try to persuade them that this bullying behaviour must not be allowed to continue but often the victim cannot see, stand up to or change the bullying. After a while the victim becomes unable to make normal every day decisions for fear of making a mistake which will 'rock the boat'. I've often heard this feeling described as ‘walking on eggshells' - a horrible way to live a life. For me, freedom of speech is one of the most basic Human Rights and yet so many of us don't really enjoy it.

Getting away from a situation like this is not easy, especially when there are children involved. Emotionally it's very likely that you've become unsure about exactly what's happening and where ‘right' begins and ‘wrong' ends. Physically you may be dependent on the bully for your daily life - most bullies can also be very loving and generous - when they choose. And of course the ‘weaker' among us - typically the disabled, sick, elderly and children - are especially at risk of becoming a victim.

Abuse and bullying are slowly becoming more the focus of attention - for which I am so thankful. I hope that one day they will be regarded as seriously as drug addiction or alcoholism. As a society we need to put in place more - and more acceptable - alternatives for our care so that we aren't so dependent on these bullies. The sooner the victims are released from these unbearable situations, the better. A leopard cannot change its spots - unless it really wants to and is willing to work hard on self-development with a counsellor or other health professional.

More often than not, these rotten situations get worse, not better."

Anonymous...

Of course these bullies were almost always the victims of other bullies themselves at some point in their lives. That's the rub... And the tragic pattern. They desperately need society to take a stand and help them to overcome their own pasts and at the same time to help their victims... Who they often love. And who, at the very least, are those of us who are for some reason dependent on them.

I challenge our society to provide a real alternative in the way of income, social supports and the opportunity for the most disabled among us to work, take a real part in life and to be able to contribute our skills and so rise above this sad behaviour... And above all, today, I challenge the police to root out bullying from within their ranks and to show decent and fair treatment to everyone they come in contact with.

If you have a comment, opinion or story, we would love to read and share it... Either with your name or anonymously.

With love, Julie

The Silent Revolution

2009-04-19T21:50:00.008-07:00

Spring is round the corner! My good friend Marilyn and I have just put together a grant with amazing potential - and planted a tiny garden with daffodils, together with sweet smelling lillies and colourful tulips and pansies. Time is flying by - as usual... Although, to be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way. I feel as though I have spent so many years 'on hold' and now I am better, I have to run fast to catch up. Today I sang with my choir - I am so proud to be a part of them. I will wrestle with technology and aim to put a video or audio clip on my blog (I might have done it...). Our choir is One Human Family and our aim is social justice... Through music and one song at a time. I am also deepening my understanding of counselling with Mahmud Nestman and Trust Oriented Therapy - and someone very special sent me this writing... Which seemed to sum up so much. I hope you enjoy it:

THE SILENT REVOLUTION
-anonymous

On the surface of the world - right now - there is war and violence and things seem dark.

Loved ones hurt us with harsh words and unacceptance. Society can be a cold place for anyone who's 'different' in any way

But calmly and quietly, at the same time, hearts are opening underground.

An inner revolution is taking place and the lucky among us are being called to a higher light.

It is a silent revolution. Changing us from within - from the inside out. From the ground up.

A Global operation. A Spiritual Conspiracy.

There are sleeper cells in every person - and every nation - on the planet. You won't see us on T.V.

You won't read about us in the newspaper and you won't hear about us on radio.

We don't seek any glory. We don't usually wear uniform. We come in all shapes and sizes, colors and styles.

Most of us work anonymously. We are quietly working behind the scenes in every country and culture of the world.

In families, communities, cities big and small, mountains and valleys, in farms and villages, tribes and remote islands.

You could pass us on the street and not even notice. We go undercover. We remain behind the scenes.

It is of no concern to us who takes the final credit - simply that the work gets done.

Some call us the Conscious Army...

We are slowly creating a new world with the power of our minds and hearts

We are dropping soft, secret love bombs when no one is looking: Poems ~ Hugs ~ Music ~ Photography ~ Movies ~ Kind words ~ Smiles ~ Meditation and prayer ~ Dance - Art ~ Social activism ~ Websites - Blogs ~ Random acts of kindness...

We express ourselves in our own unique way, each with our own unique gifts and talents.

Be the change you want to see in the world.

That is the belief that fills our hearts.

We know it's the only way real transformation can take place.
We know that quietly and humbly we all have the power of the oceans combined

Our work is slow and meticulous. Like the formation of a giant mountain, invisible to the naked eye.

And yet with this loving change, entire tectonic plates shall be moved in the centuries to come.

Love is the new religion of the 21st century

You don't have to be a highly educated person or have any exceptional knowledge to understand it

Life changing love comes from the intelligence of the heart
Embedded in the timeless evolutionary pulse of all human beings.

Be the change you want to see in the world...

Nobody else can do it for you. We are now recruiting. Perhaps you will join us? Maybe you already have...

All are welcome

The door is open...

We Published Our First Unique Adult Speech Therapy Book!!

2009-03-05T16:57:00.006-08:00

Yay! We have finally published our first unique adult speech therapy book - and it is so, so beautiful and professional (thanks Marilyn)!

I am particularly excited because as far as I know (and if you know different I would love to hear from you and perhaps we can help each other?...) this is the first speech therapy book - "What I Mean Is..." - for higher functioning adults with language challenges.

I'm so excited I don't know where to start!

I want to tell you about the book itself...
And about how it was written...
About how it can be used...
And about how quickly and 100% safely you can order it online...

I guess I'll start at the end... Which some would say is typical of me! I wanted to check out the company - www.Lulu.com - that's fulfilling the orders for the book for us and make sure they really are 100% reliable and that your credit card details are totally safe. I have been blown away by their integrity and professionalism - I'm delighted to say... Ordering the book was easy and quick and just over a week later (they sent me 2 emails meantime to let me know where they were in the fulfillment process) I received my book. As you can see it arrived in a cardboard package, firmly sealed inside in a protective bubble. Quick, easy, safe, guaranteed professional in every way...

This book can be used directly by clients with some help from either their own speech therapist, an occupational therapist or other rehabilitation therapist, a nurse or caregiver... If you or a loved one have suffered a stroke, chemobrain or another brain injury and need help expressing yourself fully and with ease, this book is for you. This book works best when there is a non-injured person working with the client - although I admit that I worked on parts of this book in the waiting room with the other brain injured patients in my group!

Hilary Dibben wrote "What I Mean Is" because there was no text book or workbook (other than for young kids) out there to help the thousands of us who can speak... But who are unable to express themselves in a way that is satisfying and meaningful to them. The technical name for us (I am part of this group) is the "higher functioning speech impaired" and we fall through the cracks when it comes to our need for therapy. Yes we can form words and ask for our basic needs. But we can't fully express all the thoughts in our minds. With help we can get better and there is hope that we can live as fully as we did before. We need to re-file and thousands of bits of information that have been exploded everywhere by our brain injuries. This book is the answer we've been waiting for.

"What I Mean Is..." started out as a collection of worksheets and gradually grew from there. The development of this book was completely in step with

the needs of the client and
what worked.

Simple but brilliant. The perfect book for me, the client - and it works.

I love this book! It's the one - or the contents are similar anyway - as the one I used myself in neuropsych-rehab at my local hospital. I had no idea that I had need of language therapy - I knew deep down that I had difficulties... But everyone else seemed to think I was 'good enough' and I was very happy not to rock the boat and have to admit that, in fact, I was not OK... Before this round of rehab no-one had every suggested that I seek out speech therapy. However as speech therapy was part of this neuropsych-rehab package - and not wanting to miss any potential improvements - I went to my first session with Hilary. Amazing! I had no idea and it was my brain... Here was a woman who knew what was going on inside my head when even I didn't!

The exercises here in "What I Mean Is..." seem simple. In reality they are very powerful. I've always been able to write my thoughts down... Now I can speak my thoughts too. And the best thing of all is that I can now see clearly what my difficulties are - which is the first step to healing and real improvement. Now I know what it is I need to re-learn. And how to do it.

Words and language is such an incredibly important part of 'me'... Thank you Hilary.

The Pitfalls of "Playing it Safe"

2009-02-18T23:34:00.002-08:00

A Guest Blog

- by the Juggling Librarian...

The past past few years have been a roller-coaster ride for me. I was a normal, healthy, active student at university, studying fine arts and just discovering my strengths and femininity when a mysterious spinal cord infection hit. Suddenly I was plunged into a world of hospitals, wheelchairs, physiotherapists and neurologists.

I have a neuromuscular condition that causes severe weakness in my arms and legs. Since 2003, my limbs have become progressively weaker - to the point of near paralysis. After several rounds of intensive spinal cord rehabilitation, I learned how to walk again, despite a prognosis of never being able to do so. I continue to have ups and downs - periods where I cannot balance my weight and sometimes fall. These relapses often occur when I overextend myself - when I push myself too hard through work and exercise - or when my immune system is weakened with a virus or infection.

It is frightening not knowing when my legs will fail me. It seems reasonable to play it safe, and avoid situations that pose a risk to my health. Doctors and other health care professionals have encouraged me to stay at home and apply for disability benefits. It is tempting to heed this advice and avoid work and other activities that may compromise my physical health.

But that's not who I am. I am a risk-taker and constantly resist definitions of myself as a disabled individual. I am also stubbornly independent and strive to live a full and productive life despite my limitations. After losing the ability to walk, I went back to school and obtained a Masters degree. While undergoing rehabilitation for my legs, I continued to take graduate courses in library science - still allowing me to use my artistic abilities but a great and very sensible choice for a disability such as my own. After graduation, I moved to a new city and started working full-time in a job that I love. In my spare time, I attend ball and pilates classes - and help with ReBuildingYou. I am accomplished in my professional and personal life because I push myself.

After living with a neurological disorder for six years, I still haven't found the balance between playing it safe and engaging in the activities that I love. Sometimes it's a struggle making it to work, and walking through the building to my office. At the end of the day, I'm usually at the point of collapse - my legs stop working, and I require assistance with the simplest of tasks. Fortunately my reserve of energy is replenished after a good night's sleep!

Sometimes I wonder if overextending myself is self-destructive. Why do I feel compelled to to this? I constantly test the limits of my abilities by pushing myself to do more and more. I learned this strategy in spinal cord rehab (aka bootcamp), where the physiotherapists and occupational therapists worked my muscles to the point of exhaustion. I learned that a small degree of discomfort and pain is sometimes necessary to improve muscle strength and endurance.

At the same time, I understand the importance of nurturing myself. Hot baths, heating pads, and plenty of rest help to replenish my energy reserves. Every morning, afternoon, and evening, I close my eyes and consciously "check-in" with my body. If I push myself too much, my body will give me not-so-subtle cues to let me know that I have reached my limit. My legs become flaccid - like noodles - and the wall becomes my best friend.

As a person with a disability, I have discovered that the key to living a full and productive life is to frequently test my boundaries. I haven't yet learned how to strike a balance between maintaining physical health and engaging in work and play. My condition fluctuates over time, making it difficult to predict how my body will respond to different activities.

Testing my boundaries and not 'playing it safe' actually helps me and is an integral part of my rehabilitation because if I didn't do that, my limits - the imaginary safe-zone bubble that we all have around us - would continually shrink, day by day. I would achieve less and less and that would be contrary to living as full and productive life as possible... Which is something that everybody of every age deserves to try, regardless of ability.

Seasons of Emotional Pain followed by Amazing Joy

2009-02-12T17:53:00.010-08:00

Seasons of Emotional Pain followed by Amazing Joy

With Valentines Day and talk of love, the last few days have been a time of difficult reflection for me. Several people I love very much are going through transitions in their lives - perhaps transformations. Particularly because I love them, I can't help but feel their pain. I was looking for a way to give them a little hope when I realized that no good friend - and certainly not a counsellor - can do that better than just by 'being there'. Quietly standing by their side while they experience what may well be a whole season of excruciating emotional pain.

Just love them and be there. Not an easy task...

Seems life is a bit like a series of seasons - which I know has been said so often it's almost a cliche... But, please don't surf away from this page yet. Hear me out... Could there be a bright side to the emotional pain you're in right now? I have a thought...

Spring is a time of birth and all things 'new' - and can (maybe 'should'?) last until your teens... Then, in an ideal world, an exciting summer proves beyond all reasonable doubt that life is just wonderful. Of course, this would be followed by a gentle fall with amazing colours and a sort of 'dormant' period of frozen winter relieved by some cheerful holidays. What a perfect life that would be...

Of course you've probably found out by now that life is rarely perfect... Rather than one life equalling one year of four seasons, you may experience several 'years' in one lifetime? And of course we never know in advance how our time will be paid out...

I'm not a fan of fall or winter but, in my stubborn experience, fighting it makes it seem more miserable and longer. Go with it: prepare for it: refasten the shutters when they blow open: ride it out. Wrap up warmly and snuggle in front of the fire with a hot chocolate - after shoveling the drive and stacking the firewood - and wait for spring which will come.

I have observed the same pattern applying with people's lives and I would be very interested to hear your story? A tough, unpleasant experience - which can last for months or even years - is followed by a beautiful spring, which is ever more fantastic with real self-growth. Followed by another summer. To bask in - and reflect on - that growth. Hmmm...

A reward that can make stormy weather worthwhile? I wonder. (I never felt that way at the time, that's for sure!)

Often the first fall is a real showstopper - a life changing illness or life event, perhaps? Sometimes people never really recover from their trauma. Or they might recover enough from the fall to get to the winter. And then spend their whole life in a relatively cold, dark place, afraid to take another step further, just in case they unleash the fury they've experienced before. They may experience the occasional winter storm but never again do they experience the warmth and joy of another spring and summer. Unless...

If you can find it in you to accept the fall (not your prognosis). Prepare and address the winter... If you can bear to hang on and really 'be' with whatever experiences you've had, then the next spring could be even more wonderful. And just imagine how beautiful that summer would be?

And if you're unlucky - or lucky? - enough to have to suffer through yet another fall and winter, I believe the following springs and summers are progressively breathtaking. This is what I've observed and I must admit I find myself almost embracing it.

Of course there are spring and summer storms too. Usually shorter. And warmer and lighter. Not lasting so long. Short and dramatic.

The second (and third?) springs and summers are there, ready to reward you for enduring painful autumns and hard winters. Wonderful, beyond description. Waiting for you to be able to trust and tolerate, explore and 'be with' your experience. When you're ready. At any time. It's never too late to transform an unspeakable fall into a beautiful spring.

Warmer, 'new', kinder seasons, just waiting to soothe your soul and heal your bruises.

With all these thoughts raging in my mind, I head to the beach. It's a cold day with a biting wind with tiny frozen haildust blowing in over a choppy sea. My dog looks at me as though I have finally lost my grip on reality, that I would walk in this weather? But I need to touch my wisdom tree and run my hand over her gnarls and black, almost fossilized, bark. She is my wise mentor who was wrenched out of the earth and blown violently down towards the sea... She hung on and hung on, eventually digging in, sprouting new roots and reaching toward the sun.

Never again will this tree stand in quite the same (vertical) way but she is magnificent in her new horizontal position. There are birds, busy hatching up among her leaves. New life and buds on her branches. I feel immediate peace and a kind of stillness when I stand under her canopy with my hand running over her bough.

Fall and winter only enhance her well weathered beauty now.

Getting to that 'good place' can be anything but easy...

Sometimes you see babies on TV whose faces look old and burdened and aged beyond their months or years. Trauma and hard times befell these tiny souls too soon. These are the precious babies who survive droughts and are left over from wars and only a mega-dose of love and nurturing can hope to restore these little lives.

On the other hand, I know the nicest older couple, who met whilst they were in their first Spring. I delight in reminiscing with them. Their life has been a long and beautiful first summer. With the odd summer storm. They walk the beach, daily, hand in hand. Life is still an Indian summer for them and I pray that it will go on endlessly.

For myself, my first spring was fair. I was healthy and strong, ready for a summer full of electric storms, longer and more dramatic than some. My first fall was stormy and colder than I expected. Winter was long and deep - in fact I had moved to Canada and my psyche, not realizing that all of Canada is not equally frozen, dug in and hibernated!

My second spring was a spring that can only be experienced in the far north, where the ice remains right up 'till summer. Summer was short. Very beautiful but short. During my second fall, my emotions were still living in Northern Canada, unaware that my body was slowly moving south. Eventually they caught up. Winter was shorter, despite the terrible fall, although there was one particularly nasty storm. My third spring is happening as we speak and is gentle and more lovely than I can describe, marred only by the feeling that I somehow need to fill every moment and cram in all that I missed while I was hibernating for years. I'm dealing with that illusion...

I never stop marveling at how life is experienced so differently by every one of us. And at how I can never guess what that experience might have been for someone until I truly listen to them.

My conclusion isn't really a conclusion... In that it's fluid and still evolving. Right now it seems to me as if there is no 'right way' - or wrong way - for life to be?

If you are incredibly lucky you could live your entire life in a first Spring and Summer. Or a 'textbook life' may follow the seasons of just one year? But in no way is any one way usual or 'normal'... I don't think there is a 'normal'?

Depending on what fate has planned for you, one thing seems certain: for every hard fall and winter you endure, the following spring and summer are ever more wonderful. They can be... If you let them. If you can bring yourself to trust... And, of couse, fall colours can be magnificently beautiful, followed by a crisp, clear winter.

As a mother I'm torn, wishing for a carefree and sunny life for my children. I cannot bear the idea - or reality - of them being in emotional pain. I hurt for them. I have to try and hold back because my instinct is to rush in and smother and give advice! I also find myself wishing for them the natural prize of sharper focus and deeper love that seems to follow a trauma well healed? More and more I see weathering storms as 'worthwhile'. I wonder what other ways there are to real personal growth? There must be other ways? If you have stories I would greatly value hearing them...

My heartfelt wish for all those in emotional pain - particularly those I love - is to hang on tight. Ride this violent roller coaster and know that it will come to a stop, eventually. Trust, deep in your soul, that the most beautiful spring and summer you can imagine are just around the corner. And know that those who love you, including me, are here whenever you need a hug.

You're right when you shout that you will never love this way again. Never...

First there is a tender young plant. Often just one bud. Which sometimes, very sadly, dies. And at that point the plant does look very bare. Winter can be long and hard - and often the best thing to do is to put your tender plant in a safe, dark place to rest and recover its strength. When the spring comes - and it will - new growth and new buds and a thicker, healthier plant will be there. A new 'you'. This is my experience.

With the warmest love,

Julie

Our Little Miracle and The Power of Love

2009-01-31T17:58:00.010-08:00

The world is blessed by the wonderful diversity of our brothers and sisters and this month there is a unique concert being held in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada to celebrate that love... On Valentine's Day! Come and join us at the Banquet of Love. I would love to see you there!

There seems to be nothing that love, genuine love, can't overcome - not a war, not racial tension, not unemployment and not embracing a new life changed by trauma, but still wonderful... Please extend a loving hand to friends and neighbours, especially those adjusting to trauma, when their need for us is so much greater...

This moving true-life story was written especially for ReBuildingYou by a dad. Not just any dad but a father who is one of the gentlest, kindest men. Like many men, this man keeps his feelings and emotions hidden deep in his soul and I'm touched and very grateful that he would be willing to share his story. A story that could well save one or two of the thousands of marriages and families that are overwhelmed every year by the demands and shock of physical and emotional trauma and the 'special needs demands' life sometimes asks of us.

Trauma has the emotions of veterans tied in knots - survivors and family and friends. Often so tightly that we fail to see the joyous parts of our lives - which are there despite the trauma we're reeling from... And the many, varied and beautiful gifts that diversity of every kind can bring... If we surrender to our circumstances, however awful they may seem, the richness of life can enter and soothe us and ease the difficulty. The world is blessed by the wonderful diversity of our brothers and sisters - people of different colour, sex, lifestyle choice, age, disability or any other 'difference' - and this week there is a unique concert being held in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada to celebrate that love... On Valentine's Day! Come and join us at the Banquet of Love. We would love to see you there! Julie

Our Little Miracle

by this week's guest blogger

In the beginning there was a dream, a dream of a happy, ordinary family with love, joy, birthday parties, Christmas’……… well happiness. You plan a family together and think how perfectly simple it will be. That is not always the case.

My partner and I enjoyed life; we travelled for many years and lived life the way we wanted to, at the time. At some point we decided to settle down and start a family. So, we planned. We first got the home, worked hard, so the mortgage would be manageable for me, while my wife stayed at home with our children. Rather old fashioned concept but that’s what we wanted.

When all the pieces were in place, a nice home, steady job etc. we tried for a baby. After 12 weeks of knowing my wife was pregnant the unimaginable happened. My wife had a miscarriage. We were both devastated but tried again………and again…..and again. All in all, a total of six miscarriages. Six babies lost, six tiny lives never to be lived. We were devastated. Tests were done; no reasons for this to happen were detected.

I had given up hope, my wife never did. Then one day she was pregnant again. I was in dread of what I thought would happen. As time drew toward the twelfth week, the time that the other babies had miscarried we were nervous wrecks. But things progressed along normally, the odd concern as the pregnancy progressed but nothing major.

The year was 1997; the worst snowfall to hit Victoria in 80 years and the baby’s due date was fast approaching. Now our concern was that we would be stranded and not be able to get to the hospital, 25 miles away. My wife told me we need to go now, so off we went, snow or no snow.

Four days of labour, no sleep for either of us. We spent our time talking about our soon to be born child; we listened to the joyous sounds coming from the adjacent rooms as other lives entered this world. Soon it became apparent that intervention would be needed. I was so happy that I was being part of this wonderful experience, the doctor asking me to assist with minor tasks, made me feel so much apart of the process and took the edge off my nervousness.

The moment had arrived our son was being born, the crown of his head showing. Out he came and was placed on his mother’s breast. No sounds of joy, hushed whispers from the doctor to the nurse, who rushed off. It still hadn’t dawned on me that something was wrong. My wife laying there stroking this tiny forehead, with a tenderness that only hinted at the love she had for this baby.

Shortly a paediatric doctor arrived and examined our newborn. He turned directly to my wife and I and said “your baby has Down syndrome”. My wife looked at me and said “I’m sorry” I burst into tears. Sad that our son had downs but sadder that my wife apologised.

Our child was now whisked away for a battery of tests to determine what congenital defects he may have. The next few days seemed a blur, not just from the shock or the exhaustion of four days of no sleep but an overwhelming sense of sadness, of loss. I loved our son with all my heart but knew from 10 years experience with mentally disabled people the immense challenges our son would have to face and we, as a family would also.

Fortunately our son was free from many of the congenital problems associated with Downs, heart problems, cleft pallet and a whole list of others.

Our lives went on, we loved and cared for our son, he did need regular hospital and doctor visits. At the age of 6 months our son developed unusual hyper-activity and accompanied by, almost startled expressions and movements. He was taken for check ups, nothing, he was taken to emergency, nothing. Finally I managed to come up with the idea of video taping these actions as the doctors could not diagnose without actually seeing them. Immediately our son was kept in hospital. He was now diagnosed with West Syndrome. It is a form of seizure activity which affects the part of the brain that regulates breathing and heart rate. This was a life threatening situation. After a week in hospital, which my wife never left, being at our son’s bedside all the time, we came home.

Several other severe illnesses threatened our son over the next few years. We 'coped' as a family. My wife was wonderful. She always knew what to do and how to deal with the, often, not so co-operative medical system.

One thing never occurred to me during this time. My wife and I were growing apart. Our opinions differed on almost everything, from my job, to who is responsible for what around the house, to money, to our son. Our lives had always seemed as one, we were always moving in the same direction, with common goals, we were for the most part very happy, or so I felt.

I think we were both so deep in our own sadness that we couldn’t see the suffering of the other and therefore didn’t give the support to each other that we so desperately needed. I remember having a re-occurring daydream in which our son had a parallel life. I could, so vividly, see our son being ‘normal’. He walked, talked, joked around, he had friends. But as the years passed so did the parallel life of my son, until it faded into nothing and I faced reality. Our son, at the age of 7, had poor cognitive reasoning, couldn’t talk, had poor balance walking, had no friends…………..

So the final phase of my grieving for the 'ordinary' son who had ‘died’ the moment Liam was born, had passed. My wife went through her own grieving, suffering that I have no knowledge of, as she has no knowledge of mine.

We have been separated and divorced for a number of years now. Our son is a wonderful, kind and compassionate soul, who I am very proud of. I love him very much.

Nick

Joyeux Noel

2008-12-27T17:14:00.013-08:00

Hi from Julie! We don't have another guest blogger lined up until 2009 so... It gives me a chance to catch up and acknowledge the sheer volume of 'stuff' that happened in 2008... A great website that was just a vague idea in 2007 was started; wonderful people are offering their help; my son has been working flat out... Thank you to Thomas, Marilyn, Rose, Scott, Mahmud, Pablo, Adele, Esmee, Hilary, Daniel and Cobe, Carolyn, Jim and Sheila and all the names I forgot to add here of people whose help is priceless. And thanks Cobe for the very first precious cup of Cobe-tea!

Just before Christmas I saw a movie - Joyeux Noel - which is a true story of something that happened in 1914 in the cold, muddy filth of the World War I trenches: soldiers from Germany, France and Scotland put down their weapons - literally - and celebrated, played soccer and drank coffee together on Christmas Eve/Day. They also buried their dead. Friendships formed but, tragically, the generals (governments?) separated these 'real' soldiers - who were no longer quite so happy to kill each other - and redeployed them.

My dream is for Peace forever among all Nations of the World - a bit lofty but a very real dream because I see ordinary people of all colours and faiths working happily together and I wonder who it is that's pulling them apart again?

Over the holidays I also watched (had to!) several documentaries about the underprivileged, power, greed and violence... And whilst 'ordinary criminals' have been found technically guilty, there is quite a bit of evidence that points towards government involvement. What's really going on here? Again, I can't help but wonder... And pray for strength to 'stay true' - whatever the temptation - for all of us - particularly governments - in the future.

I also watched some great videos from Gregg Braden (thanks Thomas) and the Science of Miracles which are amazing and worth watching (there are 7 parts). Many people are familiar with these ideas but Gregg's explanations seemed beautifully clear to me? - Click Here...

I would like to wish everyone a Successful and Peaceful 2009 and hope that this holiday season was one of family reunion and visits with good friends for you. I look forward to more fabulous guest bloggers in 2009 - and thank you again to this year's guest bloggers for your great posts in 2008.

Guest Blogger -Sarah

2008-12-10T21:33:00.004-08:00

Todays guest blogger is Sarah. Thank you so much for sharing your story, Sarah!

Hi everyone,
I'm Sarah and I'm a Childhood Cancer Survivor. My story starts when I was five years old. I went into my parents' room one morning and said: "Mommy, my knee hurts" She said I would be fine and to go back to bed and I did so. My mother thought I just hurt myself on the playground or something. This pain persisted for two weeks and then I started Kindergarden and I was able to forget about the pain for a little bit. However on the second day of school I told my mother: "Mommy, I don't want to go to school tomorrow" Of course this worried my mother, and the next morning I awoke with a fever of 103 and my mother brought me to the ER at Carney Hospital in Brockton, Mass.

There I was diagnosed with osteyomitolytis which is an acute inflammation of the bone marrow. I stayed at that hospital for a week. When I wasn't better by the week's end the doctors did a biposy on my right knee and that's when they found the leukemia cells and on Sepetmber 21st, 1990 I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblatic Leukemia.

I could not be treated at Carney so, I was transfered to Floating Hospital for Children in Boston. I stayed at Floating for a week receiving high-dose chemotherapy, Prednisone, and many other medications. There are some bad things I remember from the hospital, and some good things too. My Dad would come to the hospital when he left work and come take my Mom out. Before my Mom left she always bring me Skittles and Starburst. Starbursts, chemo and my stomach all got along just fine, however, with Skittles not so much.
"Look Mommy, rainbow colored throw-up!" I remember going down to surgery to get my catheter put in my chest so I could get chemo, my blood counts looked at and go to school. I Went into remission on October 15th but still needed three years of chemo, blood tests, bone-marrow tests, and spinal taps. For me the scariest part of treatment was the spinal taps. I was not losing my hair or the surgery for the catheter in my chest but those painful needles.

I went back to school, then I wanted to go back to the hospital. The kids at the hospital played with me, the kids at school didn't play with me. No one educated my classmates about cancer because people back then were still stupidly afraid of cancer, I'm sorry if this sounds harsh but, get over it! Cancer exists and if don't talk about it we won't find and the stigmas against patients and survivors will never go away. We should not be afraid of cancer anymore, its almost 2009 we need to get over this cancer-phobia.

I've been in remission for 18 years and I am graduating from college in the spring and I plan to be a hospital psychologist for girls and women with cancer. I often wonder what my life would have been like if I didn't have cancer. I love to draw and I wonder would I have my art abilities if I didn't have cancer? Would I be me if didn't have cancer?

I also had trouble seeing myself as beautiful for a long; I finally accepted my scars when I was 17. One scar is on my right thigh from when I was misdiagnosed. I have one my neck from when my catheter was removed when I was eight and I was half way done with chemo, and her sister scar is on my right breast. I think that one looks like a Phoenix. I had finished taking a shower and I noticed my scars in the mirror and I thought “Damn, these are hot”. My Phoenix-scar made feel beautiful about being a Cancer Survivor but not a woman. I don’t think I felt beautiful as a woman until now. I’ve never had boyfriend, I’ve never been kissed, so I thought I could never be beautiful for anyone; then I realized I had think of myself as beautiful before a man thought of me as beautiful.

I have forgiven cancer for the most part, after all most of problems I face today are from chemo, not leukemia. What I really want to know is why does such a horrible disease have such have such a positive word at the beginning of its name? Cancer is trying to tell us something, I think we should listen to it.

I love this...

2008-12-04T09:43:00.002-08:00

Guest blogging is beautiful! I love the idea of getting to know people better - and I love the whole idea of weaving a strong web in interconnected links to support us all... Thanks Baldylocks for being the first and for having this great idea.

I would like to invite someone else to come forward and write a blog for us... Baldylocks has offered to help and any questions or interest can be directed either to her at: http://baldylocks.blogspot.com/ or to me at: julie@ReBuildingYou.com

Step on up!

With love,
Julie

Guest Blogger -Baldylocks

2008-11-27T20:31:00.006-08:00

Today I thought I would add a post from a guest blogger. She was diagnosed with Leukemia at 33 in the last two weeks of her university degree. After several rounds of chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant from her brother, she is now trying to get back to a new normal. You can visit her blog at Baldylocks.com

Da Funk
I've been floundering recently. Almost three years of being ill in bed has taken a huge toll on my body and my psyche. I've gone through a long cycle of fear, anger, hope, and an endless waiting for things to get better. I started out with a very solid belief that I would be fine. But after 3 years in my bed and struggling to get through every day I eventually wondered, will I get better? No doctor would say.

The prednisone and all my other drugs have made me so ill. My strong band of hope that I would see the end of this has grown thinner and thinner until it was only a battered thread.

This whole cancer dealy was only supposed to be a bump in the road of my life. One day I would wistfully look back at it, throw my head back and laugh in a conquering sort of tone. Now I know I will never be the same. I realize it's been said a hundred times over by a hundred different people in a hundred different contexts, but it's new to me. I will never be the same.

Sadness has crept in. Frustration has seeped into every inner corner of my being. With it came listlessness and apathy. Pain, medication, severe sleep and fatigue issues have clouded my brain making it feel like it's stuffed with cotton.

I feel like all the control I've had over my life has been taken away from me. My body has become my betrayer.

I felt a little like putting my head in the oven.

Perfect :) I find being severely at the bottom a real catalyst for change. There is no place to go but up. I've decided to kick this suck hole despondency.

I made a plan. Despite all the things I struggle to get done every day, I am going to come first. I took myself straight to the doctor and to a Cancer Agency counsellor as well as a massage therapist. The doctor made a priority of sorting out my lack of sleep. The Amtitriptoline made me so much worse. I tried it for about 5 days but after a midnight online shopping spree I had no recollection of, I went back to the Dr and stopped taking it. The upside of that is I have been receiving nice little "presents" in the mail for the last two weeks. My GP upped my current sleeping meds which don't give me any trouble. I've also been off my main tormentor (prednisone) for 4 months.

Getting a better sleep has made me feel a bit better which in turn has enabled me to do a little more. I been forcing myself to go twice a week to my arthritic waterfit class. No matter how suckathetic I feel, I go. When a friend asks me to go for a walk on the beach at an unGodly hour, I say, Yes. I was asked to go to a salsa dancing class. I said, Yes, and went but was only able to sit and watch. At least I walked up the stairs. In short I am stretching my boundaries and if I suffer after, at least I know I tried.

I hurt, I feel awful, my body is protesting but I feel hopeful again. I have goals again. I feel like I have some control in my life again. My body is my goal. It's not my betrayer, it is a part of me that has had a hard time and deserves a little compassion.

If I'm not going to save me, who will?

Light The Night Walk for Leukemia

2008-11-20T19:35:00.006-08:00

Hello! We walked for little Jobe - and my beautiful friend Rosanne too who was with us - this year and last year. She's a survivor (we're searching high and low for a new term instead of that one? If you have any ideas, we would love to hear them...) Survivors caried white balloons. We had red ones and there were gold balloons to commemorate those who are no longer with us. Events like this really help - not only in the money they raise but just because 'they're there'... I chatted with a father who was there with his wife and 2 other kids while their young daughter was in hospital undergoing her second round of chemotherapy. They were so glad to have somewhere to go where they felt they could go... They just felt too 'shell shocked' to be anywhere else... I was very happy to be there. After the walk - and 5km is a long way when you're still recovering - we partied with a firedancer (above) and music and snacks... Thank you very much to all the generous folks who sponsored us - we really appreciated it. Here are some photos:

Sponsor little Jobe and help support the essential support services...

2008-10-02T01:00:00.008-07:00

Please sponsor Christine's walk for Jove - if we all donate even the smallest amount we could help to spread the Light - and Luck... Click Here for Christine's sponsor form. All the assumptions that we naively make about our luck are all relative. If we feel lucky, we feel alive and loved and blessed and just all-round warm and good. We feel wonderful. My daughter-in-law and 3 of my beautiful grandchildren (on the left) are walking in this year's 'Light The Night' walk (for the 4th year running) for leukemia and blood disorders for little Jove (on the right). Ironically, Jove's mom, Iris, walked in Light The Night too - before Jove was even born... My hope is that if we all pitch in and sponsor her - and little Jove - he and hundreds of other precious children like him will be a little bit luckier. Click Here for Christine's sponsor form and more information about the walk - we'll be there and we would love for you to join us too!

Degrees of Luck

2008-09-18T17:03:00.007-07:00

Luck is a funny thing... One man's luck is another man's nemesis. If you are in a coma, then 'luck' is to recover consciousness. If you are a well known film star, luck is to land that best-ever role. If you're a teenager without wheels, luck is to win even an old car. If you already have a car, then luck is to win a year's worth of gas and new brakes...

And so on.

The last few weeks have been strange... A brilliant friend of mine was diagnosed years ago with diabetes. He is a gifted stock trader and hopeless entrepreneur. A few years ago one of his legs was black and rotten from the knee down and, despite his doctor's advice to have the leg amputated below the knee, he dived long and hard breathing pure oxygen at the Hyperbaric Oxygen Centre until his leg was pink and healthy again. This last couple of years he's been working long hours and his foot and leg became gangrenous again. He feels lucky that the hospital only had to amputate part of his leg last week and he is learning to walk again already...

NAIG - North American Indigenous Games A day of joy...

2008-08-18T12:02:00.041-07:00

We need more joy in this world...

Lives are broken and smashed by trauma - racial, physical, emotional...

This day was a celebration of success...

The North American Indigenous culture was suddenly traumatized - much like an individual who suffers a stroke or serious injury - when the European settlers landed on these shores. As ReBuilding is where my mind is these days, I was obsessing about the similarities between trauma to an individual and trauma to a whole Nation...

This was a day for the First Nations... No mistake. A real celebration. It was also wonderful inspiration to all those who have suffered severe trauma of all kinds...

I've never seen so much hi-fiving in all my life!...

I felt gratitude, being able to applaud strong, young athletes... Taking over my generation's struggles 'to overcome' the past, with new energy and in such positive ways. They do it with apparent ease and grace...

Tribal journeys - which is a fantastic 'Outward Bound' kind of program that takes an active approach in attending to internal problems within the family/culture - had taken place all week with longboats arriving in Cowichan Bay from all over North America and Canada...

I was hoping and praying that the crowds would turn out for the celebrations planned for Sunday. As a Caucasian who is anything but comfortable with her race's history, I want so badly to create new history - a fabulous 'today' - founded on unity and hope and goodwill.

As it happened, thousands of people turned out on this hot, sunny day to cheer the four-and-a-half THOUSAND athletes in the North American Indigenous Games - teams from Alberta and Arizona to New York and Nova Scotia...

I was delighted! The choir that I sing with, One Human Family Gospel Choir, were there, helping to line the route. Here our director Eric (below), is being shaded with a parasol...

Along with the thousands of participants and spectators was a craft fair...

Again and again I saw a lovely blend of tradition, present and future.

This was a mom-and-daughter business making herbal creams in the traditional ways but marketing them in today's way - on the internet...

TheHul'qumi'num group was there promoting education about this land and its First Nations and history.

Representatives from the police force, Canadian Forces and Government offices were recruiting and a great example, to me, of the old and the new in perfect harmony was a beautiful 'today' black silk business-woman's suit with traditional First Nations markings...

The best story of all I discovered on Saturday...

A handful of experienced security men and women have been volunteering their services for First Nations events - including this one...

Supported by local business interests, these guys had been training with First Nations people to provide their Morning Star security for all their events.

They were delighted to show off the beautiful thank you gift that they'd received for all their hard work - and fondly remembered their founder, Lumpy Joe.

To me it was one more example of a community ReBuilding - taking the present and creating the future...

Real and respectful co-operation between people of all cultures.
The feeling of unity and love and an accepting generosity... (I appreciate this, even though the injury to the First Nations people was years before my birth)

I believe the secret of the future lies in unity...

As the great example we were shown here, we can learn from and respect history, seize today and embrace a new future... I pray that the future-builders - our sons and daughters - will be much wiser than our ancestors were and forge the future in peace.

ReBuilders must do the same thing...

I hope the day will come soon when there will be unity in the world: complete harmony, equality and acceptance between men and women of all colours and faiths and histories.

I keep finding examples of this these days - there's a feeling of goodwill and it's spreading!

Whirlwind of action

2008-07-24T10:35:00.009-07:00

Wow! It's been nearly a month since I last posted... My goal was to post at least weekly?! I am so caught up (and still learning) in getting this website 'right' and launched, that I've been living and dreaming it. I could blame my brain injury for making it too easy to 'tangle everything up' - and then I find out from my brilliant friend Ann Handley's post that my fears are really no different from everyone else's... Yay!!

My dream is to have a website that will help give back control of your own life after trauma; a website that will provide a community for those recovering; a dating site that is gentler and a bit more subtle than some; a fantastic directory that gives not only the names and addresses of therapists but also provides details of the types of therapy that they do together with a few words about them personally and perhaps even a testimonial; articles sharing the latest news and developments in rehab; stories from alumni (all of us?) about our traumas so that no-one ever need feel alone again...

I almost always wake up before the end of my dreams - they're a bit long! To have a chance at success, I really need a lot of help to 'get out there' and known about. Which I'm sure will come when it's ready...

But back to 'now'... The big event in the last month was a fabulous conference in Dallas, Texas for eWomenNetwork where an unimaginable 3000 - yes, three thousand! - entrepreneurial women met and shared and networked and supported each other with their businesses. What power we have...

On these beautiful days I am torn by the desire to just 'enjoy some summer' and sit under the oak tree outside with some lemonade! My son - who provides ReBuildingYou with it's IT - now has his first car with sleek rims and throbbing stereo and has discovered tubing in local rivers and partying on some of our beautiful beaches... So much for quick progress for the website!

But you know what? It's all just the way it is meant to be... Without a healthy dose of JOY, progress - whether with a website, business or rehabilitation - will come to a standstill or at least be slow. I forget sometimes to 'take my own medicine' and balance the Physical, Emotional, Joy, Cognitive and Financial colours of life...

So here's hoping that the summer will soak into your bones and that you can take a few moments to feel the warmth of the sun on your face. In the long run, better and more lasting progress will be ours!

With a warm hug...

To Your Good Health, Adele...

2008-06-25T11:55:00.010-07:00

This week I said goodbye (hopefully just 'adieu') to the doctor who made the single biggest difference in my post-TBI life: Adele Hern. Adele was my neuropsychologist (hard to say 'was'...) and she was the first person - one of the very few - who truly understands what my post-TBI brain is like.

Most people assume that because I look fine, I am. Which is great and I appreciate the vote of confidence. Mostly...

But if I try to explain how life really is for me, people look at me strangely, as if they're trying to read between my words and find the joke or the catch. Then they tell me how everyone forgets things, especially them, and they tell me how lucky I am. It drives me crazy! I've never wanted other than to be as I was. Sometimes I need to reach out and tell someone how it is for me. Often they can't hear and mostly that's OK. Until Adele, I felt very alone.

Adele is an incredible woman and doctor. She has an uncanny knack of understanding exactly what's happening inside the neurologically damaged head, giving you back a priceless sense of belonging. Which is something I had long since given up on when I met her. What's more, I know that she has been able to give this same, amazing gift to many others.

The invisibly disabled often go through life being misunderstood and mistrusted - and generally squinted at - as if they're 'pulling a fast one'. For me, I eventually started to believe 'them' and mistrusted my own instincts...

Adele Hern gave me back 'myself'. One of the most precious gifts a person could receive.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Adele.

Meanwhile, enjoy sunsets on a beautiful beach (my idea of heaven!) with a Pina Colada and your husband close by your side.

With much love,
Julie

ps... If ever you find yourself at a loose end and tempted to 'come back' - even for a brief moment, please call me. I would love the opportunity to share ReBuildingYou with you in some way...

Collective Energy

2008-06-04T22:22:00.024-07:00

One of my 'best things' to do is sing with the One Human Family Gospel Choir . On Saturday night we performed at a beautiful old stone church - with lovely stained glass windows - called the Peace Centre. And it was full to bursting!

To be a part of a beautiful collective voice never ceases to fill my heart - and cover me with goose bumps. Alone my singing is pretty ordinary and it's a real challenge (after ABI) to sing in tune, remember the notes and the words and the timing, stand for a couple of hours, clap, dance, smile... I worry every time that I won't be able to do it.

But after the first few bars of music, energy from the whole choir runs through me. I am transcended somewhere special and for those precious hours I am no longer confined by my abilities alone or by my body. Alone, my voice was broken. Yet with some practice and as part of this incredible choir I am whole again - at least for that time. I am grateful for such an amazing gift.

It wasn't always this way. As a young girl I sang with my school choir and even sang one of the solo parts of Silent Night at Christchurch in England. Then my head injury damaged the part of the brain that governs the voice (along with many other parts) and I could never guarantee or control my pitch or tone - even in speech. I was sad to think that I would ever sing again...

My lovely friend Carolyn encouraged me for 2 whole years to join her choir - and when I eventually went, she was away! That first night I was terrified. Another good friend, Dominic, accompanied me and I tried several sections of the choir to try and find where I fit. Eventually I found the alto section. I struggled for weeks to remember the words and to try and learn how to use my voice again. Instinctively I knew how important it was for me. New friends with strong, clear voices stood around me and gradually I found my way - thank you Laurie...

ReBuilding yourself is a journey - actually more like a pilgrimage... So why not build it into something you enjoy and love? Singing is fabulous exercise - it challenges you and your brain in so many different ways. I can imagine hundreds of tiny, threadlike new pathways being formed in my brain every time I open my mouth!

A Small Miracle

2008-05-15T11:30:00.005-07:00

I walk on the beach with my dog and a mug of tea most mornings. This morning my face lit up as I watched a little girl - no more than a baby - picking dandelions and blowing off the seeds. She was totally delighted and sharing every puff and giggle with her young father - who was right there with her. Every single atom of her being was connected to her present moment and her delight. She looked as though she felt totally loved and safe and at peace. I watched her for a little while and imagine my pleasure when, as I eventually walked past her, she engaged me with clear eyes and shared her delight with me and showed me how to blow seeds off a dandelion clock!

What a wonderful gift. In that moment I saw the whole world through her eyes - I was 'one' with her. With my little girl inside me. With my mom. With my children. With every single one of us.

For me, those moments of newness and connection are so precious and are glimpses of the peace that we can recreate… ReBuild. Those moments are reminders to me of what I - we all? - forget when we 'grow up'...

Love of Life...

2008-04-24T22:14:00.007-07:00

This morning when I was walking on the beach, the tide was out and the sand was completely washed clean and smooth. It reminded me of a brand new slate waiting for us to write our futures on it. All of us. And if we made a mistake we could start again. Guaranteed! The sun was shining, the sea was sparkling and I felt serene and full - I felt like the world was my oyster. I can't remember when I last felt so 'right' and confident in my life? It's been a while...

I try and 'walk my talk' and pay attention to balancing all the areas of my life and carefully noticing everything I do - especially now so I can write about it! However the price of not paying attention can be high...

After a severe trauma it's as though our very life shuts down. Everything is 'un-automatic' and seems rusted shut. Every step takes effort and when you want to do something simple - like smile at someone and say hi - you have to deliberately make sure that you stretch the corners of your mouth 'up', make your eyes smile and concentrate on forming the word 'Hi' with your lips and make your voice work. It's hard work! Every area of life has to be carefully tended and balanced. It's so tempting to stay home. To cut off from the world. Surely this is just too much effort?

NO! You may feel down and hopeless some days but please, dig deep in your soul, fire up your computer and just type one finger in front of the other. One day you realize that, while you weren't paying attention, life has become playful and joyful again. Just like that! (Well, after a ton of effort!)

A walk on the beach is no longer just a walk. Sure it's still walking on the sand for exercise and air - but now it's so much more too! It's balancing on logs; walking heel to toe and actually feeling like checking out my prints in the sand; pulling pure air deep into my lungs and smiling at the sun. I'm smiling naturally and saying Hi to fellow walkers - very aware that some may be aching or lonely or sad. And another thing - dogs now come up to me and stick their noses in my lap! For months they have avoided me?

Never forget that somehow this precious 'love of life' does come back. Be patient with yourself. Be persistent. It always comes back eventually. And it really is so worth the wait!

Birthday parties...

2008-04-12T14:19:00.010-07:00

A great analogy of how life tends to be for me came to me this morning when I was coaching my 7 year old grandson how to RSVP to a birthday party invitation. My older son was standing in line, waiting for my attention...

I really had an 'ahh' moment (as opposed to an 'aha' moment)...

I carefully read out the phone number for my grandson to dial. Which he did in just the slow and deliberate way you would expect any 7-year-old to do - and, interestingly, at about the same speed as I do... And because my son was watching and waiting, I really 'felt' the length of those extra seconds.

Then I coached him through the call... I reminded him to say "Hi"... and to say who he was... And to explain why he was calling. To say 'thank you for inviting me' and 'yes I will be coming' - and then to ask his questions about timing and directions. It was quite a long and complicated call. At the end he was beaming and so proud that he had every bit of the information he set out to get and he'd handled the call 'just like a grown up'. He was so excited he punched his fist into the air!

For me it was a very timely reminder of the legitimacy of why I am always rushing and why my life often seems like trying to run through thick treacle... It actually can be! Every single little thing that I do requires conscious thought and effort - even something so mundane and obvious as swallowing. If I get distracted, I choke. Every single mouthful of food or drink needs a moment of conscious thought. Can I sip a drink while I'm driving? Only if I am very, very careful...

A chain of events - like saying Hi when you make a phone call, followed by introducing yourself, followed by setting the scene to orient your listener, followed by asking your question - all the time making sure that your listener is still 'with' you. Let alone smiling so that my voice sounds happy... None of that is automatic for me. Still. Over twenty years later - and despite that I 'look' absolutely fine, it's still an effort. I often forget a step, even though I try hard to remind myself. Then I'm very self-conscious of the fact that I sound 'a little off'... It's very easy for me to 'forget' to feel confident...

Everything takes longer and means extra effort. It's not quite the same as it is for 'you'. Which is OK... But as survivors of a brain injury we have to make super-human efforts to 'be normal' and when we try and explain ourselves and we are not heard, we feel minimized. Invisible like our disabilities. Ignored. We would give our right arms (well maybe not!) if things could be easy for us again - as in 'just the same for me' when it really was just the same... (And I say 'we' after speaking to many other survivors about this>) When someone - anyone - tries to explain their world to you, please hear them. To reply with 'it's the same for me' - even if it really is the same, is to dismiss them. They have said it because they want to try to explain their life to you. They want you to understand; they care about what you think; your understanding is valuable to them.

I - and thousands like me - try so hard to keep up with today's really fast pace. It's a constant, huge (overused word, yes, but it fits here...) problem that will be with us for the rest of our lives. Seeing and being part of this special 'RSVP phone call' reminded me to be kind to myself and to give myself a hug - especially when I feel like giving up altogether. That I keep going despite some of the difficulties is really quite an achievement. Underneath the 'normal' veneer - that I work so hard to put up - occasionally is a frustrated and sad woman. With a little more understanding - from both you and from myself - it could be a woman punching the air and cheering yes! Even after something mundane and 'everyday'.

Let's celebrate the fact that we are here at all. Every day...

Yes!

PS Thank you Ann for teaching me how to make a link!

On the way - in a zero visibility blizzard...

2008-04-05T17:49:00.007-08:00

I've no idea why it feels this way? Except maybe that I have realized how may zillion 'details' need organizing (I'm a perfectionist... bad habit) before I can really move ahead.

I have spent hours researching keywords and spring-cleaning my database... and of course it has to be done RIGHT NOW! Good job I work for myself cos anyone else would just walk out. Yuk!

Aside from that... I have found lots to be inspired by recently. My friend ANN- who is a brilliant and zany writer from Boston - blogged so enthusiastically about blogging (which I had been resisting) - and made it sound like actual fun. Yay! I must find out how to link two blogs together so I can show you what I mean... I would love to write like her when I grow up! The best thing about blogs is that you don't ramble too much like you do in a private diary. In case someone might read it... I can imagine me re-reading this in a year or two and being able to actually understand it. Neat!

Another woman who really inspired me is the wife of one of the soccer players who had their annual awards dinner in my town last night. They gave her and her husband a standing ovation and have formed an association to 'kick MS"... It gave me goose-bumps, standing behind a crowd of several hundred, strong, healthy, applauding men. Wow... I also realized how she has had to struggle at the very time she feels 'un-able'. To find information about MS and its treatment, as well as every other disease, spurs me on to finish my website. I remember well the difference that being part of a therapeutic community felt and I want to publish tons of information in plain language.

I have some grandiose plans to market this website... Including several 'tours' of hospital rehab units and traveling at the same time. Part of me shakes my head and wonders who on earth I think I am that anyone would want to come to my presentations. I haven't even finished my first presentation yet, let alone presented it! On the other hand: why not? I talked to a woman today in North Carolina that I know who I'm hoping will help me build a tour down south.

So funny though that I have had several people phone me to give me feedback about my site rather than leave comments! Is that because many of the people I know don't feel comfortable with the internet? Or do I just notice it because I crave some feedback? Maybe I'm more of an exhibitionist than I thought? One thing's for sure; I wish I had a business partner...

I'm still blown away by the similarities between building a business and rebuilding a life. Of course there is no emotional and physical loss when you're business building. And hopefully it's a much quicker process. But otherwise... I am also very aware of my own physical fragility - and also blown away by the genuine lack of understanding that people have of what that means... I guess I shouldn't be surprised because I still have trouble really realizing it - and many neurological problems are invisible. The people who seem to understand me best are those people who've 'been there'.

So, am I enjoying this journey? You bet! The most amazing thing is the fire within me. It is starting to blaze and crackle for the first time in 23 years. Now I just need to make sure the whole darn house doesn't catch fire and work on keeping it stoked and make sure nothing comes along to douse it.

AND... I must make sure I go for a walk on the beach tomorrow morning and go to my dance class... And pay my bills and do some word exercises on FREE RICE And read all my google alerts...

It's never been more important to try and keep my self running smoothly...

A moment of elation!

2008-03-20T16:07:00.002-08:00

I wish I could slow down time. (Yeah, yeah, yeah...) Many ReBuilders (according to my OT, most of us) have a problem with speed and time and getting everything on our lists done. Time management. Our brains scheme and plan at the same rate as they did before they were injured. And like idiots we let our brains tell us what to do!

After twenty years I have still not managed to get it through to my brain that we HAVE to go a bit slower so 'I' can keep up. The result of this, need I say, is boring old fatigue. I always think though, that if I finally 'get there' - wherever 'there' is - it might just mean that 'the scary end' is right round the corner? And that's how I justify being out of sync... On the other hand, maybe I need to apply the same, clean 'parenting' principals that the books say I should try on my kids (rarely do I get that right either...) and tell my brain that 'now we will go slower'. And that's it. No argument. I'm the boss...

But back to the elation bit... I was delighted and very surprised on Friday to learn from my brilliant (I'm allowed to say that cos I'm English!) business coach that I might indeed have a good business idea after all! Yay!! I was just about to throw in the towel. All I need now is the energy to follow through on 'the big plan' (and finish it)... When I read it I can easily see 4 full-time jobs in there!

But... One step - and one stage - at a time. Slow down and breathe... Which is exactly what I want for my clients sometimes? Funny that... I wonder if it's boringly obvious to everyone else? I find it very difficult to take my own advice! Building a business really is similar to ReBuilding your life - in so many 'practical' ways.

Just totally different...

As my sweetheart mum - and our good friend Vahan in the 70's - would say "Take it easy. But take it!"

Have a yellow-daffodils-blowing-in-the-breeze-and-chocolate-filled-Easter... I love this time of year!

Aha...

2008-03-07T21:47:00.002-08:00

Going into any 'new' area -- in this case for me, business and the internet -- is always littered with booby-traps, buzz words and thick tangled undergrowth. After just a week of picking my way carefully through it, I'm exhausted. It seems so complicated... I work hard and write reams of what I think is great-sounding stuff... Just to find I'm barely passing go.

Every time I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror I see this zombie-in-the-headlights staring back at me. Forging new pathways for anyone, anytime, is uncomfortable, terrifying, tortuous, humiliating, humbling, sheer bloody hard work...

Wow...

I'd been 'comfortable' for too long... This is (nowhere near, really) what it must be like for my clients. This may be my comfort zone now (counselling, coaching). But when you're in the middle of 'change', it's pure hell. My clients probably see a stunned, strange person staring back at them too when they look into the mirror...

Being out of my comfort zone is like being blindfolded and spun round and around, a hundred times, and then plunged repeatedly into cold water. I really get it now: why it's so important that I try to create a nice comfy, cozy nest at work. Otherwise my clients would never feel safe enough to peek over the covers and take their next, tentative stretch.

A soft, warm blanket and a gentle hug would be welcome right about now...

Thank you Reger. For reminding me.

(And I hope you're listening. Doing your market research...)