Where visions grow and blossom
Happy New Year! I look forward to 2022 being transformative in that it’s a better year than many of us have seen a … a while.
My you find joy and laughter in everyday situations. May you have peace, good health, love and all that brings a smile to your heart.
I love movies and have for a long time. When my boys were young there were movies we’d watch over and over and never grow tired of them. I’m still that way. I love the movies that surprise me at the end like Sixth Sense, The Others and Shutter Island. I love the romantic comedies, tear-jerkers and a good drama. I love the Pixar and Dream Works type animated movies, especially the ones that make me laugh. I am a sucker for sappy romance movies too.
I’m grateful that during many challenging times throughout my life, I’ve found the silver lining. Sometimes it’s not some ah-ha moment, divine wisdom or a sense of grateful lesson but a gift within the challenge.
My TBI was at the end of 2003. During 2008 and 2009 was by far the most challenging time of my decreased cognition. My short term memory was … well, very short. Some … well quite a bit of my long term memory wasn’t so good either.
The most entertaining silver lining as a result of my TBI came during 2008 and 2009 when my cognition was at it’s worst. I could watch movies over and over again and not remember a thing. Even the movies I had on VHS that I had watched for years became new again. It was fabulous! The only one I didn’t like was City of Angels because every time, the ending would rip my heart out and each time, I never saw it coming.
I am grateful for all the silver linings that I’ve been fortunate enough to recognize.
When I was a kid, well and way into my adult-hood, I was terrified of bees and other flying creatures.
I didn’t like butterflies because they seemed as confused as moths and would flitter about aimlessly. I couldn’t dodge them because I didn’t know which way they’d be going.
I especially didn’t like bees. I was terrified of them. When I was five years old we were on a camping trip. My older brother and I were exploring and found an old ticket booth. As he opened it up we were surrounded by bees. He was stung mercilessly while I only got a few stings but one that would forever remind me. I had a little crevice in my nose for most of my life from one of those stings. (I think it finally went away about 15 years ago.)
My fear of bees was a source of entertainment for all who witnessed it. When I’d work in the flowerbeds, if a bee came I’d run as fast as I could, flailing my arms like a mad women. The elderly couple across the street loved it. I had other similar occasions where people would see me screaming and running; at picnics, in parks, etc. I’ve seen adults and kids alike, laughing hysterically at the sight.
In late 2003 I had a TBI. One of the very incredible things to come from that was that I no longer had any fear of bees or other flying creatures.
In 2005 I went into a butterfly hutch and was surrounded by thousands of butterflies, I was amazed by them.
I realized I no longer had a fear of bees when I went with my mother to a lavender farm to cut fresh lavender. I was squatting on the ground clipping and realized that I had bees buzzing all around me and I was fine.
I now have a tree not far from our front door. This time of year, as I walk by it, all I can hear is the beautiful hum, the buzzing of many bees on the blossoms and I feel a sense of awe throughout my being.
The difference? The TBI slowed me down and reconnected me to nature in a way that I hadn’t been since I was a child, living in the mountains of Colorado.
Seeded Visions