We headed out on our first ever family trip before the sun was even thinking of waking up. I had lists, file folders of information, photocopies of reservations, photo copies of health cards, and every little thing that could be documented, documented. I was going to “remember” everything, despite not being able to remember anything.
I admit, I slept most of the drive. I would open my eyes for a short period of time every so often, but I was getting so dizzy. Being in a vehicle was nauseating. I literally felt like we where traveling at the speed of light. My eyes just could not focus on the world as it past us by. I was told that was a common thing, and to just try to keep my eyes down as much as possible. So I did, and I slept.
I had started to notice a huge improvement in how I was feeling just before we had left. Even my husband had remarked that I was making improvements. I had started to cut out simple carbs from my diet after watching the Netflix Documentary “Beyond Health”. One of the people being interviewed had talked about “keto” as a way to heal their brain. I wasn’t quite ready for keto, but I was willing to make some small changes. So I stopped having bread, potatoes and rice, avoided sugar at all costs, and went back to the basics of nutrition. CLEAN protein, vegetable carbs, and good fats.
I knew it would be hard to avoid these while camping and adventuring around the maritimes, but I was committed to keeping it as close to plan as possible.
Then Lobster rolls happened, and I needed to try a roll from EVERY place we went. We all did actually. I noticed pretty much right away how having the white bread roll was making me feel tired and headachey, but that where TOOO good to stop. The maritimers make a MEAN lobster roll!
One day we were in Alma, NB at the Bay of Fundy. We had an amazing lunch of lobster rolls, mussels in a bucket, and salads, then headed to the oceans side to walk the ocean floor while the tide was out. We walked for what felt like miles before coming to the waters edge. It was strange and serene all at the same time. As we walked out a calm came over me. I was standing in a spot where hours from now would be filled with an ocean, with life and movement. I took a moment to meditate on this. Everyday, the oceans recede, move away from the hustle and bustle, and recharge if you will. Then when they are ready, they come back, join the small towns, the fishermen, and beach goers in joyful playful waves lapping on the rocks of the coast. The water has no control over its moment. It just goes. I felt a connection to this movement, and the necessity of it. From day one of the concussion I was trying to “concur it”. I was determined to fight it and prove that I could make myself better. But like the ocean, who has no control over it’s tides, and the movement of it’s waters, I too had no control over how fast, or how effective the attempts to improve would be. I could only flow with the tides, listen to waves of healing, and go where my brain needed most. It ment trying new ways of healing, but not forcing them to work. It ment listening to my brain and sleeping, when I needed, moving when I was anxious, and guiding this adventure towards the path of less resistance.
It was freeing to have this realization, but scary to let go of the reins at the same time. As we adventured around Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, I found myself many times taking the reins back, fighting the tides, and battling the ocean, but I also found myself able to surrender to what was needed. Slowly beginning to see that I was not in-charge of this healing, and slowly becoming ok with it.