It’s only Tuesday, yet the weight of the week already feels
heavy. Sometimes, I stand back and wonder how I manage to keep so many plates
spinning without letting them crash. Tuesday is usually my marathon day—between
my day job and hosting the online support group, I try to protect my remaining
brain power by keeping the schedule clear.
I was supposed to record a podcast tomorrow, something I was
genuinely looking forward to. Then came the email: a scheduling conflict. The guest
asked if I was free today.
Normally, my automatic answer to a last-minute change is
"no"—I have to protect my energy. But today, something made me pause.
I checked the calendar. Aside from the support group, the slate was clean. I
checked with my wife—my constant reality check—and she gave me the thumbs up.
I broke my own rule, and I am so glad I did.
I preach constantly about not taking on more than we can
handle, especially as brain injury survivors. We must be gentle with ourselves.
But sometimes, when I step on my own toes and ignore my own advice, something
beautiful blossoms from the chaos. I didn’t just record an interview today; I
forged a deep friendship with an amazing fellow survivor.
I know I sound like a broken record to those who follow me,
but I do this because there is a fire in my soul to connect. I need you to know
you are not alone on this recovery journey. You have the loudest, proudest
cheerleader in your corner.
I don’t do this for fame, and certainly not for
fortune—podcasting isn’t exactly a goldmine. I could have chosen a path of
simple comedy and easy laughs. But that isn’t my calling. My calling is to heal
broken hearts, lift weary spirits, and make sure that every single one of you
feels seen, heard, and validated.