Stroke of Insight and Cool Sad Songs

Just read "My Stroke of Insight" by Jill Bolte Taylor, PhD. What an amazing book. She talks on Tedtalk here.
The summary from Ted is:

Speakers Jill Bolte Taylor: Neuroanatomist


Brain researcher Jill Bolte Taylor studied her own stroke as it happened -- and has become a powerful voice for brain recovery.

.Why you should listen to her: .One morning, a blood vessel in Jill Bolte Taylor's brain exploded. As a brain scientist, she realized she had a ringside seat to her own stroke. She watched as her brain functions shut down one by one: motion, speech, memory, self-awareness ...

Amazed to find herself alive, Taylor spent eight years recovering her ability to think, walk and talk. She has become a spokesperson for stroke recovery and for the possibility of coming back from brain injury stronger than before. In her case, although the stroke damaged the left side of her brain, her recovery unleashed a torrent of creative energy from her right. From her home base in Indiana, she now travels the country on behalf of the Harvard Brain Bank as the "Singin' Scientist."

"How many brain scientists have been able to study the brain from the inside out? I've gotten as much out of this experience of losing my left mind as I have in my entire academic career."

Jill Bolte Taylor

I'm not sure why, but this book about her experience, above all yogic insights, above all other books I have read lately, this book really HELPED me. I mean, I'm-angry-and-screaming-inside-and trying-to-scream-outside-at-my-beloved-J-and-not-knowing-why-and-no matter-what-I-can't-stop-and-I feel-out-of-control-and-helpless-even-after-years-of-different-therapies-and-drugs..., HELPED me.

It's only been a day of trying her techniques. But the difference is that she is solely based on the body and its capabilities in her advice. No foo-foo, no God, no bullshit. Yet she can talk elegantly about Energy and Healing and not be foo-foo. She is speaking my language. The science of what we don't know. The experience of energy as something real and tangible. It really gives me hope that I can heal this anger inside me. Change my future. At last.

And now a totally random quote from this sad song I like by Of Monsters and Men called "Little Talks".

I don't like walking around this old and empty house

So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear

The stairs creak as I sleep, it's keeping me awake

It's the house telling you to close your eyes

Some days I can't even trust myself

It's killing me to see you this way

This song really lets me see the big picture. How I treat J and how much I would miss him if I was old and alone in our old house. Thinking of all the words I said to him, and wishing I had been more kind and loving. It makes me sad, but also is a reminder. It's beautiful in its duality.

Detachment Parenting 101

As recently ranted on this blog, by yours truly. With a little, well, a lot, of extra quotes for the picking.



For some reason the term “attachment parenting” just brings up all sorts of ooooo-gleee emotions. I mean, the first time I heard of it I was all like “ooh, unicorns and rainbows, that sounds awesome!” but now, I don’t know. Maybe I feel like there were things I wanted to do that I didn’t do or couldn’t do? But more than anything, I guess I ran into too many pretentious, bitchy-ass moms who espouse AT, and not only did I despise their other parenting choices, but I found whatever AT things they did, I had to seriously consider the opposite. I know, intense emotions.



Either way, the end result was reading something a while back (was it Renegade Mama's blog?) that was actually poking fun at its critics, but nonetheless, here goes. That term, that word "attachment", does it not imply that some parents are NOT “attached” to their kids? Or whose goal is NOT attachment?



This really hit home when I was recently in the doc’s office explaining for the umpteenth time to a different person how I was separated at birth from my baby and blahblah traumatic, blahblah. His response? “Wow, no, that’s bad. I mean, even cracked out, street women, totally high on something, they know, that’s THEIR baby!”



I'm serious, besides someone seriously experiencing PPD, who DOESN’T feel attached to their munchkin and do whatever they can for them, within their own capabilities? I work at the downtown library, otherwise known as the day-time -drop-in centre (to me). I SEE those moms. I want to STEAL their babies. I want to take home these precious 6 month olds and do a better damn job than some 17 year old, smellin-like-smoke, talking-about-getting-her-GED-"SOMEDAY", at-the-library-from-9am-to-4pm, texting-people-all-day and IGNORING her baby mom. But I can't. I don't even glare. I just long. I long for someone else's cute little baby. But you know what? I would NEVER comment on what she should do or not do with her baby. Why? Because that lesser-than-me mom? She LOVES her baby. She is ATTACHED to her baby. And God knows, if I came even within an inch of insinuating that I would remove that baby from her, I am absolutely certain that momma bear would

tear

me

apart.

She may not be making great choices, and yes, I know that love does not conquer all, especially second-hand smoke or growing up with no role models in your life. But within reason, someone, especially THIS someone (lil' me), should not be feeling threatened that someone thinks she isn't attached to her baby. The thought of this is so revolting and sad that when it gets down to it, I shouldn't even get so mad.


The term is just one of total, utter obvious-ness isn’t it? For lack of my own better term? What does a parent, like me, call herself as a non-AT mom? A detached mom? For real, pick a different name, or better yet, just call yourself “mom”. How’s that? Oh yeah, not pretentious enough. SO outdated to JUST be mom or JUST be dad? To JUST love and do what you can? So 80s. So what our moms did. Who wants that? Phooey.






Well, anyways, I'm out of breath. Phew, end of rant. thanks for listenin’ luvs;)

Saskatoon in June

This was a photo my mom sent me after I was told that brownbear had arrived in Saskatoon with daddy as planned, but with 7 stitches!

He fell into a play table at the Calgary airport and the paramedics there said to take him to Saskatoon as it would be more convenient. J waited until post-stitches to call me. It was so hard to hear this all at work. I burst out crying of course. J doesn't have the greatest ability to tell bad news. I thought the start of his story being "I have a little story for you (said ominously). Our little bear fell down..." was going to be much worse and I seriously stopped listening at that point. I can't imagine how hard it would be to have a spurting wound on a toddler just before you are trying to catch a flight for work all alone. Poor J and bear!

I even checked said table on my journey through the airport 2 days later and there is not an edge on the thing. He's just unlucky I guess. This lack of grace is the ONLY thing he inherited from me. The photo above is such another J lookalike photo. The legs are SO daddy's legs! Long and straight.

But the bear bounced back. This was a photo from Sunday night, when everyone was over for my birthday.

It's hard to see but this is my niece being chased by a little bear! The feeling of watching them really play like this for the first time is the EXACT opposite feeling as when I got that call from Justin about "the fall"! Such a rollercoaster. Heart-stopping to heart-warming.

Here's my big brother, grandpa and mom for a family photo.

This was after many, many outtakes of the same photo. Both kids were not happy to have their 45 minute race around the kitchen be stopped for a photo but eventually they were coaxed into a couple still shots! Grandpa was helping too, that's why his finger was in the air.

Overall, Saskatoon was a great trip. The CBC radio there totally makes up for the GODAWFUL other radio stations. The spectacular blue skies, jogging through the mud trail along the Sask River surrounded by bushes (Nature's first air-conditioning). The expansive river, twice the breadth of the Bow River in Calgary is a marvel to run across on a bridge, but wow, the wind! Then there was the humidity, which had me perspiring the entire time of course. I just couldn't trust the weather, always expecting Calgary's cool weather to pick up anytime, so I wore sweaters and extra tights and had a sheen the whole 3 days. We even had dinner on an outdoor patio on an overcast evening, and no jacket! Take that Calgary. Still, we had to remind ourselves many times about the lack of good downtown restaurants, the winter, and of course, mosquito season that is on its way anytime. But Saskatoon, like so many Canadian destinations in the summer, will charm and seduce you! Key words are the summer!