And Time Tells Me

So, here I am, 10-years-plus after nearly dying in a cycling accident.

I was told by a doctor that my brain is subject to continued recovery-induced change, and that’s proved true. So, how am I now?

Well, since the last update my dreams have altered. (But don’t worry, I know, everyone else’s dreams are boring. I’m not going to try and relate any of them.) What’s changed is both their focus and, if you like, their ‘presentation’ of content – by which I mean they’ve become more kaleidoscopic of late. And by that I mean they’re akin to those kaleidoscopes you get as a kid, where turning them gives different views in different fragments of a circle. However, for me, they are different ‘photo-realistic’ fragments of my life. And that is strange.

(I am also aware that I’ve looked at issues relating to dreams in the past and rehashing those earlier musings would be similarly dull.)

And another change of late is a kind-of non-change. Along with these ‘new style’ dreams have come some often brutal reminders that I’m still trying to attempt things I can no longer do, and I’m still finding myself surprised and frustrated at my continuing lack of ability.

Yes, I know, as with dreams, I’ve gone on about this frustration before too.

What’s new, though, is the different conclusion I’m coming to, regarding what it all means. The conclusion has to be that, whatever I experience with my brain these days, it’s time for me to learn that I’m still damaged goods, am going to remain so, and that I should move on regardless.

In a sense there’s a freedom inherent in that new attitude. I don’t need to feel bogged down with how I’ve turned out to be.

However, the question then arises: what should I be moving on to? And, as ever, nothing is simple. This new freedom can feel like a traffic jam of overwhelming possibilities. Or, perhaps, a vacuum of undefined options.