Road To Recovery: A Reflection On Broken Streets and Highways

It seems as I get older, I have more anniversaries filling up the calendar. More days that have taken on some sort of meaning or symbolism. Deaths, birthdays, marriages, and breakups. All these things begin to fill these seemingly arbitrary dates of the year with represent a life lived.

The reason I think about this is that I’ve been acutely aware of the anniversary of the day I found my self laid out on the concrete. Of the moment I ended up learning more than I wanted to about the processes of our medical system and what it means to be hurt. It’s been almost a year since those moments carved scars onto my body and brain, placed metal on my bones, and began the process of making memories of pain and resilience.

This is what an anniversary means to me, a quiet time to reflect the advancement of a moment in my life that shines out like a beacon on a dark night. A way to categorize and quantify change and progress.  It’s unfortunate that most of these anniversaries are ultimately painted in dark and moody colors. Though that’s what makes the reflection of a spring renewed so stark in its differences.

I learned a lot from all of this. I’ve grown and changed from the experience that no one would readily ask for. My body is healed and moving better than before. My mind has recovered slowly but surely.  It’s through all of the pain that I sitting here, directing my life a new and different way. I now know something that most I hope would never get the chance to know. I was lucky to learn it in a way that didn’t leave me more broken. I find myself thankful for the moments that came after that accident, as they reaffirmed and reformed some fundamental beliefs I had and would have carried with me through all of my days.

It’s in this recollection, this moment in silent thought, that I can appreciate the moments that I now have and experiences that have come from it. It’s been a year away from twisted metal, smells of prosperous, glass, metal, and concrete. I am thankful to have the opportunity to have an anniversary because it ended up not being the end but just the beginning.

Words, My Eternal Struggle With Language: Revisited 4

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It’s been 4 years since I started this blog, a blog meant in a lot of ways not just for words but for thoughts, feelings, and ideas. A blog representative of who I am and my progress as both a writer and a person. It’s so strange to think of who I am compared to the person I was 4 years ago. How much has changed each time I sit down to write this post, a post about the progress and the frustration I have with writing. Things are so different, and yet so very much of the same. If I were to look through time and see myself right there on the keys, would I recognize him?  Are we different people now, through things not just beholden to experience but through, in a way linguistic transformation. Have I come to another place beyond which I could foresee back then. Even in the matter of words, I can not tell you if I have achieved anything. Though try as I might to shorten the distance between them and me, there is one thing I have yet to achieve, the one thing I see as the ultimate goal, total synchrony. This being the 5th time I’ve come to this, where exactly am I?

It’s hard to gauge whether I’ve gotten better or worse at writing up til now, progress is hard to measure without a tool of measurement. Do my words come more fluidly? In a lot of ways, yes, though at times too quickly for my hand or lips to keep track of. Am I any more intelligible than I was then? I’m unsure, though I’m a lot more honest and open.  Why is it that continue then? Knowledge, knowledge of that it does help, that I am a better person because of this writing that I’ve been doing.

Here in this place, who I am is always called into question. Not in a way that is strictly adverse, but in a way that world I currently live in is not filled will constant reminders what pushed me forward in the first place. New spaces can be places for significant growth and triumph but not so far from the cradle of despair as the paths set out before us are not ones that have been tread. No, they are the ones waiting to be walked and built with tireless conviction to keep pushing forward and find the right path. I, at times, lose my way. Opting still to continue walking when I don’t even know the destination. Maybe it’s wisdom from above or just perpetual foolishness, those motivations long gone leaving me with a pattern and mold to fill in my own way until I find myself again.

Maybe in some ways these words are descending into ether, trying in some strange way to fill this void empty spaces with a cacophony of letters and prose.  Who knows how many are required before it is full,  but the task itself, though on the surface fruitless, is never wasted as one day, maybe far in the future, I will get there.

It is then to reflect upon my year, the year of unyielding trials and broken triumphs. I can honestly say that it was unexpected, though grow was not measured I am certain that growth was achieved. I feel as though I am starting to understand the world a little bit better, though in saying this I am almost assured to be proven wrong by the world soon enough. I have more scars, more memories, and more metal in me than I had before but the doesn’t change the fact that I am still a firm believer in the beauty beholden to this world and my desire to be someone important within it.

In looking to the future now, what is it that I want? Comprehension I would say. To ease both myself and other’s effort in trying to understand my thoughts and words.  Part of that comes from slowing down a bit and thinking a bit more before I speak. It’s in this though that I am grateful to have this mechanism to self reflect so that the me in the future can know where all this change may have begun.

I hope you all have a great next year, thank you all for reading, there is still much more to come.

Year One | Year Two | Year Three | Year Four

WORDS, MY ETERNAL STRUGGLE WITH LANGUAGE:​ Revisited 3

I never really know what’s going to come out when I sit down to a page. I might have an idea about what I want to touch on but the words themselves only appear once I am sitting in front of my keyboard typing.

I have been thinking about this type of chaotic flow that bursts forth, this stream of conscious type of writing. While it has its benefits I find that the flow and quality of the post are lacking in some ways because of it. Without this plan, it sometimes feels like I’m stitching together an elaborate asynchronous quilt hoping that at the end of the day whatever comes out is coherent.

This form of writing stems from this frustration of not being able to put what I am thinking down on a page.  Regardless of how much I plan, there is a strange disconnect between my brain and my hands preventing the perfect prose from pouring out.  The compromise I’ve come to is that if my thoughts happen at the exact moment of my writing then there is no way I can mess it up.

I think the progress I have made in the last several years because of this method is evident in the way I put these words together but I feel like there’s another step I need to take. I want for my words to flow into sentences, which flow into paragraphs, which flow into one cohesive story.  A unit that is greater than the sum of its parts. This would require more planning and forethought I have been putting into my posts, what it will require is more time than I have at the moment. What it will require is me planning and preparing for this each week so that I can progress. I want this because if I continue to practice I may be able to go from a decent writer to a good one. One that people look forward to reading.

Ultimately, I’ve taken this year and used this blog as a means to cope and contend with the struggles brought on by going back to school. I’ve filled posts thoughts and feelings about this process in return, this blog has provided me with a sense of solace and grounding. I want to expand its reach, overcome these challenges growing week by week until I am where I want to be.  It’s this slow process that ultimately brings change, and change is what I need. At the end of the day I’m just an inquisitve piglet so thank you for sticking it out with me another year, I promise this next one will be even better.

Here is a link to my previous posts, I went back to read them and I am happy to see my progress over these last three years.
Year One | Year Two | Year Three