New chapter.

I, like usual, will start this post off by saying, “damn. I haven’t written anything in a while.” Only, this time I don’t necessarily feel the need to write. It’s not that I don’t have the same feelings that I had before… the effects of my stroke still bug me… I still am questioning love, women, and the why’s and why not’s of life… I still have the occassional euphoric feeling of getting a second chance at life…

But you see, I’ve turned a page. I know those things exist. They will for a while. I know myself and my tendencies pretty damn well by now. It’s time to stop dwelling on them, or even focusing on them, and its time to adequately turn that page and move on. So if I haven’t written in a while, it simply has to do with the fact that I started this blog as an outlet; a therapeutic source of meditation, when I couldn’t quite get the words I wanted to say out to anything other than a keyboard. And I don’t feel like that’s an issue any longer. I don’t know, I guess it’s felt… trite? lately. And I guess it’s very important to me that things have a purpose, and I don’t know that what I have written recently has had a specific purpose. I don’t know if this post has a purpose… haha.

I’m still going to write in my blog, don’t get me wrong, just don’t be shocked if it’s a few months in between posts. I still may include some paraphrases from the book i’m writing, updates on my life, and i’m sure a few posts about women will sneak their way in there. But for me, it’s time to not dwell on my past anymore. I’m personally, and soon to be physically, beyond that.

btw, what made me write this, was that I noticed that the other day this blog had 38 hits in a day. I don’t check it that many times in a month. Probably not in a year.

Smile, it feels good.

B

This time of year

It’s that time of year again.

The time that I get overly introspective, and I can’t stop thinking about all that’s happened over the past 4 years. To the day. 4 years. The time that I start asking myself unfair “what ifs” and “whys”. What if I wasn’t dating someone like Lindsay at the time? Why did things play out the way they did? What if my mom hadn’t taken me to the doctor right away? Why did I have everyone there, at that particular time in my life, to play a part in my story. To get me where I am today? All the positive emotion of having the chance to be sitting here typing this is balanced by sadness, and negativity. Needless to say, i’ve been in a funk, asking pointless questions for the past few days. 

My conclusion is that it just is. I don’t know if there’s a bigger story. I don’t know that its all coincidence. i don’t know about ‘reasons’ or ‘plans’. It just is. All i can do is react. take what I have in front of me, and make the situation the best it can be. Thats all any of us can really do. All I can do is appreciate the people who got me to this point, and the people pushing me to find the next point.

So cheers to those people who help us react in the best manner possible, and cheers to those who simply make us react.

Happy celebrate life day. Smile, it feels good.

b

an epiphany while bowling

At some point, you have to understand that you’re going to have to let go.

My stroke literally nags at me. telling me everything that i’m doing wrong. You write slow. You said that incorrectly. Why can’t you run?

And, I can’t put up with it anymore. The way i see it, i have two choices. Fix it, or go fucking insane. The problem is, I dont know which one i’m trying to do, and which one im actually doing. I know all of these beautiful things that no one else seems to know. Life isn’t hard. Just be. Smile for the hell of it. Yet the more that i act in this optimistic, self-motivating, Boddhisattva style, the more difficult it is to believe in what im preaching.

Its just as true to believe that my stroke was a happen-chance, one in a million, freak occurance as it is to believe it was something greater. So why question it? because it nags. I’m not even talking about religion. im not talking about me living for a specific, determined reason. I’m talking about enjoying life. Really, absolutely, obsessed with, over indulgent in, and completeley overwhelmed (in a good way) by life. And the more i feel this way, the more it nags at me; Am i just going insane? Is everyone else insane because they don’t see this?

I’ve come to realize that others just aren’t going to see things the way i do. And that fine line between being insane and being the overly optimistic person i am is going to get blurred sometimes. I just need to be.

I had a conversation with my step-aunt, who’s a doctor, at my sisters wedding a couple of weeks ago. She asked about the left-brain, right-brain phenomenon of many stroke patients. What’s it like to have a dominant right brain, or even to be only using my right brain for a significant period of time? And it seems to be only explained by the frustration, yet pure joy, of the previous paragraphs. Everything is beautiful. For example, I went bowling the other day. I bowled a few of the worst games of my life, which just frustrates me and my usual left-brain competitive side. Then, I had that epiphany moment. I don’t have to be here. I stood on the center of the dotted arrows pointing towards the pins. The lights reflected off of the greased lanes. I noticed that i was putting the majority of my weight on my right side. The bowling ball felt light in my right hand. Everything was so easy now. My mind just clutters, and worries, and places expectations on these things that really are unimportant in life. I finished the game with a 114 after starting out horribly. Not that that’s a great score, but it made me realize that I get in my own way more than anything else. Stop. Notice the things around you and appreciate them, and the rest falls in line. Friends, a good meal, or something as trivial as bowling.

Smile, it feels good.

B

Running; 3 1/2 years later.

Today, I had that feeling. The little voice in the back of your head that tells you to make it a good day. Not the one that says it’s going to be a good day, but the one that puts the responsibility on you. That feeling has been lingering for a couple of days now, so i finally decided to do something about it. I laced up my shoes, did some quick stretching, and went for a jog.

I’m not sure if everyone who reads my blog understands the significance of running in my life. i used to run 60+ miles every week. I sometimes would go for a 6 or 7 mile run in the morning, and then again at night. It was my outlet for stress. It was my routine. I ran competitively, and just for my own sake. That being said, I haven’t ran on a consistent basis for 3 1/2 years.

The different ways that my stroke has affected me are very, very obvious to me. My handwriting is different. My speech isn’t as fluid. I’m clumsier than i used to be. But i always notice just how much my stroke has played a role in changing who i am when i’m lacing up my running shoes. My ankle has yet to fully recover, so after i’m jogging for a quarter mile or so, it starts to lag behind, dragging on the ground as i run. So for now, I have to keep my jogging to 1/4 mile intervals, until my ankle gets stronger. I can’t quite describe the amount of frustration that this gives me, making me stop and walk right as i am finding a groove. and i can be my own worst enemy too, because frustration isn’t going to help the situation any. Its just gonna piss me off, and make me run less and less often. this is why i needed that little voice in the back of my head this morning.

Its not up to some magical force that will one day allow me to run. Im not gonna wake up one day and have my handwriting be better, or speech perfectly fluid, or be graceful. Im not gonna lace up my running shoes and go for a 6 mile run. At least not without a little effort. Scratch that, a TON of effort. i can’t expect things to fall in place. i was fortunate enough to be an extremely talented and gifted person for the first 22 years of my life, so what if i have to work extra hard at these things now? Its all worth it. I hope that little voice in the back of my head sticks around for a while, so i can get through the frustrating difficult part, but ultimately, its up to me.

Make it a great day.

b

lately

Holy hell I havent written in a while. Thank-you Pro for lighting a much needed fire under my ass. In all honesty, i havent had much to write about since my car accident, or at least i haven’t taken the time to sit down and digest all that has been happening. After my car accident, it was a great time to do a little introspection. without the use of my now dominant left leg, i was pushed to do a little “forced rehab” for my right side. I wasn’t terribly worried about getting used to crutches, i was more worried that my right side wouldn’t be strong enough to carry me for a month. And since I really don’t like to doubt myself, I quickly realized just how much consistent work i am going to have to deal with. Well, it wasn’t easy, and it wasnt fun, but i got through it. And like any struggle, it only made me a stronger and more capable person. Thank god for introspection.

I’ve also had the resurgent feeling of actually making a difference in what i do. No, it hasn’t been as noble as rescuing haitian children, or as dedicated as a mission, or even what most people would notice on a weekly basis, but I now have that courageous feeling of impacting the beer world. I love the feeling of having direct contact with a brewery. When i was working for C.R. Goodman, we weren’t given an option as to what we could sell, just a number that we had to hit. With FCB, we can sit down and discuss what our next new beer is. We can discuss where we want to be as a company, as a team. We have the ability to control our own growth. Its a very liberating feeling. It creates a snese of family, and i actually care about the success of the brewery. Whether you’ve tried our beer or not, regardless of whether you enjoy it or not, I can’t shake the feeling of dedication to the 19 other people that work there. And again, it feels wonderful to squash the sense of doubt i had in myself after C.R. Goodman.

K, theres a quick update on my life. Sorry so short, but there are other things in my life… like playoff football.

Smile, it feels good!

B

cont.

So as i was being rushed off to the hospital, and the guy in the back of the ambulance with me was asking me all sorts of mundane questions, my mind was wandering off to a different time, place, and feeling; And it started to make my head spin.I couldn’t get my mind off of the feeling of my aneurysm and the sharp pain i felt behind my left eye 3 years ago. It was eerie. I managed to compose myself enough to make it into the hospital without freaking out, managed to lay there as doctors again poked and prodded me with rubber gloves, managed to answer the questions they were asking me with certainty.

Now, i want to be careful about this next part; I am not writing about the shitty treatment i received or the amount of discontent I have for doctors with a political purpose, I just think our health care system is fucked up. thats all. the treatment i received, after they found out that i didn’t have insurance, was mediocre at best. Nobody even bothered to take a look at the 2 inch gash i had on the back of my head until i left a pool of blood on the gurney taking me to get my CT scan. Also, the doctor told me what happened to my ankle as he was wrapping it for my cast. The only problem was that it was so painful, him holding my ankle as vertical as possible, that i couldn’t conceivably pay attention to what he was saying.  and when it was time to call my mom and let her know that i was again in the hospital, the doctors and nurses were bitching about me making a long distance phone call.

Enough of that rant… anyways, what happened to me was that I merely broke my ankle, got a gash on the back of my head, a few cuts and scrapes and bruises, and my car is now totaled. But hey, it could’ve been much, much worse. To steal a few words from my older sister bre, I’m very “lucky in my unluckiness.” How very true. I think that it’s always important to find that silver lining, and to notice just how lucky we all are. Everyone goes through shit. (sh)It happens, no matter who you are. the only thing that makes a difference is how you make it out of the shit and who you are after its all happened. Struggle is what defines us and brings out our character.

Ok, back to work…

Smile! It feels good!

b

104th and fox run

Its crazy how life repeats itself.

It doesnt matter what changes are made, how you grow, or the different details of your life. The only thing that matters is how you come out of the struggle that you endure.

So I find myself, exactly three years to the date after coming out of the hospital for my stroke, lying on my parents couch, eating sooup, and typing into this blog. Crazy. I’m nursing a broken ankle, and a gash in the back of my head, and all of the little bumps, and scrapes, and cuts that are on my body. Yesterday, while selling beer for The Fort Collins Brewery, I had another one of those life changing moments when you can’t help but be thankful for being alive.

I was driving eastbound on 104th avenue approaching Thornton Total Beverage, I got into the left hand turn lane, put on my blinker and coasted to a rolling stop with a green light ahead of me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see past the large, black, “dually” truck in front of me. As I was hesitantly creeping out into the intersection, the light turned to yellow and I noticed that there was traffic in the near lane, but he was slowing quickly. I couldn’t see the rightt lane. So i did my best to exit the intersection, but I missed the oncoming vehicle that was going to run the red light.

I heard a horn, but didn’t even have enough time to see who/what was coming before i was hit. i remember my car spinning. I remember glass shattering, I remember doing my best to hold on. When I came to, a middle-aged man approached my window. “Do you know your name son?” I muttered my name. “whats your birthday  brett?” I managed to mutter that as well. “Brett, you’re going to be Ok, i’m an off duty fireman and an ambulance is on its way. Keep talking to me.” i heard sirens. I rubbed the back of my head and got a hand full of blood. I picked glass out of my arm. The ambulance pulled up next to my car, the men and women rushed out, somehow got me out of my car and onto a board. And we were off to the hospital.

Theres plenty more to this story, but i’m about to fall asleep… at 5 o’clock…haha

More to come, but until then, smile cuz it feels good!

b

You

You

Are unwhispered words

And windblown why’s.

Wasting water and weary weather,

You

Are necessity

Are the new world’s nurture

Newcomers lullabyes and nerves knocked

You

Are brown bellowing believing beauty.

You are my duty.

You

Are unruly

You

Leave me cowering and questioning contemporary queries.

You

Dismantle delirious tainted theories

You

Sing for the unborn and unkept

Reasons laughed and reasons wept,

You

Are time; a 4:4 rhythm,

Hips moving on the off-beat,

You

Are the first cool breeze in the midst of heat,

You

Are the silence’s nightmare,

Only ‘cuz you make my thoughts run out of breath.

You

Lynch my honesty with an invisible noose,

Only because my wandering mind is wicked.

You

Are a story tellers dream,

He doesn’t need an imagination, only eyes.

You

Are most likely just a thought, a belief,

That I still won’t trust exists.

You

Smile as you walk on by

Throwing Rocks

I nervously stood next to the river for a second, watching my two best friends pick up rocks and huck them downstream. I took a deep breath, digging my feet further and further beneath the ground. I bent down, and shakily clutched a rock between the crook of my thumb and my pointer finger, turned, and slung it across the river. A sharp pain stung my shoulder that reminded me that I hadn’t made that particular movement in years. Somehow, the action, the movement, the pure throwing of the rock, which was my childhood, was now impossible. The next rock i picked up was twice as heavy as the last. The next after that was even more so. And so on. My friends stood by, gleefully hucking baseball sized rocks with ease, like 5 year olds on a camping trip. I stood still for a second, grimacing at both the pain and the frustration. But, for some odd reason, I couldn’t stop. Awkward motion after awkward motion, grimace after grimace, as if trying to make myself throw normal again.

Every time that I ran into an obstacle, I wondered if it was going to be the end of my progression. But I wasn’t going to let this get in my way.

And I continued throwing rocks.

Smile! It feels good!

footprints

I feel my footprints making improvements,

moving me further away from my cognitive dissonance,

this snowed-in-thought-provoking-renaissance.

And if it were up to me, her wings wouldn’t be so weighted,

if it were really up to me I wouldn’t have waited,

I wouldn’t have reacted, only contemplated.

But left to me, thoughts just play on loop,

Fast forward, rewind, slow-mo, repeat.

Repeat until I recite thoughts like truth,

exposing my youth-

But my footprints move along slow,

Biting at my heels, telling me to grow,

Footprints don’t just show you where you’ve been,

but also where to go.

And I’ve been walking for hours under fallen snow. 

I feel my footprints making improvements,

Pushing me past temporary moments.

Elating fate among escape,

Leaving me in a surreal state,

If it were up to me, we’d all be weightless.

If it were up to me, i’d follow my footprints.