To have faith… and coffee
In the wee hours of this glorious morning, before the early sun begins streaming through the sheers, I’m allowing my mind to wander toward what I might be doing to be of service in the future.
These morning moments are no longer constrained by great anxiety around what I will be capable of doing because I have faith. Faith in my progress, faith in the beautiful design of things, and faith that the steps I am taking will get me to the next right place.
With my injury and myriad “post-concussion syndrome” symptoms, maybe the biggest challenges I have had to deal with are the loss of confidence in my capabilities, loss of confidence in my memory, and loss of confidence in my communication skills.
Since the beginning, there have been a few things that seemed super-charged (like brain activity around problem solving, confusingly this happens irregularly), and some things I have been able to continue to do (like make coffee in the morning), and many, many things (especially processes) that were completely gone and had to be either resurrected, or recreated from scratch.
For example, early on, sometimes my brain would be on overdrive: thinking and logically piecing ideas together within a certain space which seemed amazingly easy and speedy (within a limited timeframe); yet, on that same day, I wasn’t able to figure out how to make a cup of tea: each of the steps for making tea alluding me just before I went to do the next step, and then remembering what I was doing in the first place (making tea) would evaporate, leaving me in a puddle of tears.
Coffee, on the other hand, is a process I remembered and hung onto for dear life: grind beans, boil water, place filter in filter holder over clean cup, pour water and watch carefully… and though I have experienced many missteps, I have enjoyed making a cup of coffee almost every morning, and I relish it as if it were an essential thread running through my entire lifetime.
There are other little things that I have accomplished and continue to build upon which serve as anchors in a wild and roiling storm that has since mostly blown over. These days the skies are almost always fair, leaving me hopeful and full of faith that I will soon be able to play in the sunshine with carefree abandon.
With faith and gratitude.
❤️
