Eleven years ago, in February of 2013, I was in a car accident. Somehow it always feels important to me to mention that it was not my fault!
I am very lucky in that my symptoms, although they are ongoing, were never as challenging as some people experience. This allows me to continue to work part-time, which helps my mental health and my finances. I am also lucky to be in a union so I have sick leave and other benefits. And, like all of us, I’m lucky to be Canadian. I have benefited from tremendous support from Medicare.
Right from the start, the fine folks at the GF Strong Rehab Centre in Vancouver encouraged me to take up mindfulness as a way to manage the many stressors associated with brain injury. I now have a deep daily mindfulness practice that catches me like a net every time the oatmeal hits the fan in my life. I love mindful self-compassion, mindfulness in nature, long slow deep breaths that calm my rattled nervous system, gentle yoga, mindful eating and tea sipping, as well as joy and gratitude practices that remind me of the smorgasbord of beauty all around me–even on days when I feel overwhelmed by it all.
I am so deeply grateful that I was given a ‘mindfulness’ prescription, but I wish it had come with a warning label. Some forms of mindfulness were too cognitive, and thus tiring to my brain. Others were too scary when I was first learning mindfulness because they asked me to pay such intimate attention to my body, at a time when my discombobulated body was a frightening thing to focus on. In time, I learned to modify mindfulness to meet my particular needs. I discovered that I was on to something powerful, and I wanted to share my hard-earned lessons with others. I became a Qualified Mindfulness teacher via the Centre for Mindfulness at the University of California. I founded Mindful Concussion, so I can teach fellow survivors to benefit from modified mindfulness. I also got lucky again, because my mindfulness teacher took me on as his mentee, and he encouraged me to write my story of how I made lemonade out of lemons. I am deep in the process of writing my book called “Mindful Concussion: The Power and the Perils of Mindfulness for Brain Injury.”
I hope that my teaching and my writing will spread from my heart out around the country (and the world!) so that fellow survivors can learn from my blood, my sweat, and my tears. I want survivors to know that they don’t need to follow their thoughts down the rabbit hole of regrets about the past and worries about the future. They can learn to taste the sweet goodness of the gathered mind.
If I could go back to the early days I would tell myself this: It is going to be a hard row to hoe. There are many trials and tribulations to come your way. But, there will also be much joy and jubilation! In many ways I am healthier than I was before my car accident. My ‘override button’ is broken. At first, it was so difficult to accept that I could not continue to be so busy, or to live the hamster-wheel life our culture pushes on us. It was actually such a relief to have to step off that hamster wheel. I learned how to meditate, to go for long beautiful walks in nature, to pace myself, to manage stress, and how to say no. It’s not the life I imagined, and I wish I did not have on-going symptoms, but it’s also in some ways the slower-paced life I always dreamt of having.
I understand that it is difficult for others to understand why we are so reactive and emotional, why we are so sensitive to light and noise, why we get tired so easily, why some days we can do more and some days we can do less. It’s confusing, I know.
It is so very hard to be confronted with these challenges, and feel at times that people think we are lying, cheating, or making it up. Even if you do not understand it,–please believe that we are telling the truth. For example: turn down the music, turn down the lights if we say it is too loud or too bright!
Jessie included a link to her website if you’re interested in learning more about her.
