Life In The Slow Lane...
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San Diego, CA, United States
This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Judgement Day

It doesn't take long for the anger and frustration to subside, regardless of what triggered it. I typically lash out, let out a guttural scream, and then it's over. It's the scary thing about a head injury, that the problem is hidden and the injury lurks inside. It doesn't stop. It doesn't change. It's there.

I don't want to allow this, these tirades, to define me. I don't want my children, when the time comes, to live in fear of me. I don't want to see them cower behind big bulging eyes, like my dog does when he hears my scream.

A friend suggested that when I have these thoughts, these outbursts that I try not to judge them. Instead, he says, I should just observe that they are there. With that observation, there will be no definition, and they can no longer remind me of my injury.

I've been trying to become the observer. But the thoughts that make it past the filter are troubling. The visions are ones that I will never speak of. They scare me, not that I would ever act on them, but that they live inside of me. It's hard not to judge things, thoughts, that are wrong.


  1. Hi, sounds like your friend is just suggesting you to become a mahamudra practitioner.

    I read your post and sympathized with your attitude. I love the absence of victimization, the genuine worry, the truth that may be sensed behind your words.

    I am presently reading a book that may interest you. It's called Ocean of Definite Meaning, by the Ninth Karmapa, taught by a Tibetan lama. In spite of the apparent pretentiousness of the title - it is a commentary on an ancient book, with that title - the instructions on how to witness the mind's process without fear or attachment are really juicy.

    I hope our paths crossed with some fruitful purpose. I have a 37 year old autistic son - Asperger Syndrome - and I know what yelling is all about. You may yell in my ear as much as your lungs can manage.

    May the force be with you, Obi Wan. Don't hide behind your injury. You are much more than an injured spot. Gook luck.

  2. Wow, I've never been compared to Obi Wan, it's always been Salacious B. Crumb!

    But seriously, thanks for the recommendation. I will definitely check it out.