Mithrandir’s Magik (Alf), July 10, 1987 – April 14, 2014

Alf 1 I said goodbye to my soulmate on Monday, April 14, 2014. It is very difficult to say goodbye to one’s soulmate, maybe especially when that soulmate is a horse you brought into the world as a tiny foal, and with whom you spent 27 years of your life. It’s like burying your child. Well, at least that’s what it feels like for me.

Yes, my best friend, my partner of nearly 27 years is gone. Alf, my Alf, who filled my life with so much joy, and brought me some of my dearest friends, has departed this earthly plane. We knew it was coming, but you can’t really prepare for something like this, and finally the day came when his failing body could no longer support his immense spirit. On the Friday morning when he couldn’t move to get to his breakfast bucket, the morning he looked back at his uncooperative hind legs and then looked at me with a face that clearly said, “Help me,” I knew. I knew the time had finally come to release him from any future suffering; things were only going to go downhill from there. He was ready. I, of course, would never be, but this wasn’t about me.

The weather was perfect, with temperatures up into the low 80s for two glorious days. He had a lovely day on Sunday, being bathed and pampered and snoozing in the sun. Then on Monday morning, he was combed and kissed and fussed over, got to spend a few hours grazing in the lawn unfettered by lead or muzzle, ate a bag of apples, and was escorted like the King he was to the burial ground, where at 12:30 p.m., he passed easily, with help from our skilled and compassionate veterinarian, and surrounded by love. No, surrounded by LOVE. Big letters. Big feelings.

I have no regrets. It could not have gone any better than it did, this strange funeral rite, with Alf’s dignity remaining intact. And, just like he had so many times before, with so many things — training, or trail riding, or showing, or simply being the most cooperative, willing horse I ever knew — he made it easy on me. He crumpled gently to the earth and was gone from his body almost before his knees hit the ground. He looked strangely (or perhaps not so strangely) like a war horse in death, resting on his sternum, knees tucked under, nose touching the ground lightly, hind legs tucked as if caught in the middle of springing forth in ballotade.

I had prayed for an easy go, at least in that way. My prayers were answered, for which I am very grateful.

I have put other beloved horses down: Dusty, Red, Connie. I have assisted in putting horses down for friends. But I have never felt what I felt when Alf went down, a physical ripping sensation at my chest, a tearing, and an excruciating pain, as though some great spirit hand had reached into my body and torn out my soul. The gaping hole remains; I may look okay, I may even seem normal at first glance, but there is this great rent in the very fabric of my being that threatens to consume me.

A light has gone out of the world, and I am swimming through a river of grey, trying to find my way back through the darkness. I know he is with me in spirit. I know it. I trust that, even though I may be too caught up in my grief to see it yet. I am just feeling sorry for myself, because I will never be able to kiss his soft nose or feel that oneness of being, the other half of a centaur, again.

Still, memories of Alf are helping to heal me even now. He was a very smart horse with a great sense of humor, and his antics are the stuff of legend. There was the day in a trail class when I ground-tied him and then turned to see him eating the plastic flower decorations from the markers, or, as a mate recently reminded me, the way he would come for his medicine every day when I said, “Alf, it’s tea time!” He was a real character.

The other horses are grieving “the boss,” he who was their herd leader for their entire lives. They went outside yesterday and called and called for him. And I realized as they did that they weren’t really calling for him because they expected him to come back, as one might imagine. They knew he had gone into spirit. They were mourning, an act akin to my wailing when he dropped, akin to human expressions of grief. It was incredibly difficult to witness that pain. But after about a half-hour, they stopped and went about the business of living. Of course, they continue to look for him, in the fields, in his stall, just as I do, before I remember and emotion takes me again; this, too, will pass.

What a love! What a horse! What an incredible journey! I am what I am because of his presence in my life, because of his devotion, and I will never, ever forget that.

Rest in peace, Alf. I’m glad I could help you cross over when you needed me to. I am happy to know you are free from the horrible pain of DSLD. I will love you forever.

- CLM

My Personal Adventure to Meet John Lockley

Last October, on the weekend before Hallowe’en, I took a train to Manhattan with my partner. He was going sightseeing in NY, but I had a very different agenda. I was going to meet a man who claimed to be a genuine Xhosa Sangoma, which is a kind of medicine person/shaman from South Africa. I was following a hunch, a nudge from my spirit helpers and guides, and, I realized later, responding also to a strong push from my ancestors.

I had seen John Lockley’s face for the first time in an email from the NY Shamanic Circle. He intrigued me, this white man dressed in Xhosa ceremonial attire with the ghostly mask painted over his eyes. Normally I might only give a cursory glance at the NY Shamanic Circle emails, because after all, we are a long way from NYC, but I found myself reading carefully. I even followed links to videos and more photos, and heard his magnificent drum and songs in the Xhosa language. I read his story, related strongly to the “shaman sickness” that ultimately brought him to his teacher, and started to feel like I needed to meet him.

Now, I have Celtic, Native American, and Peruvian Amazon training, but mostly Celtic (Irish, to be specific). I’ve done trainings with some big names in Western shamanic circles as well. Still, I had never been drawn to African shamanism, so I was a little confused by this inexplicable need to find out more about what John was doing. Maybe my curiosity was partly piqued by the fact that he was a white male accepted and trained in a tradition usually filled by black females. But there was something more that I couldn’t put my finger on. As it turned out, my schedule conflicted with his first workshop date, so I reluctantly set the idea aside and went about my life. But then another opportunity presented itself, and my schedule cleared for this one, so I immediately made reservations for a weekend in Manhattan.

The Friday night before the workshop we got into the hotel about 9:30 p.m., so I really had no time to think, but the next morning, as I was getting ready to go, I was gripped by a strange reluctance, almost a fear, and I even told my partner I had changed my mind, that I didn’t want to go. I asked him if he wouldn’t rather we do the sightseeing thing in Manhattan. He looked at me incredulously. He said, “You came all the way down here to see what this guy is all about. I think you’d better go.” Then he hustled me out the door and into a cab, riding over to the Lower East Side with me, where we had breakfast together at the corner MacDonald’s once we found the address for the workshop. The whole time, my stomach was tied in knots. But I told myself this was ridiculous, and I took a deep breath and bravely rang the bell. We were buzzed in and went up the elevator to meet our lovely hostess, whom I had only previously conversed with through email. I instantly liked her, and my stomach settled down quite a bit. I was smudged before entering the ceremonial space, and I felt even better. I had time to meditate a bit in silence for some time before John came in.

I am very glad that I didn’t change my mind before breakfast that Saturday morning. John is a charming man and an entertaining speaker. But he is also a powerful and gifted shaman who plays a brilliant ceremonial drum and holds sacred space so that we can connect in a deep and meaningful way with our own ancestors. Learning Xhosa chants and songs and practicing the trance dance was fun and enlightening and difficult all at once. Being part of that sacred and ancient ceremony was very special for me.

At one point on Saturday afternoon, John was talking about honoring the ancestors of the land here, the Red People, the Forgotten Ones. We each did our own ceremony honoring our own ancestors, and I felt the name LaRock well up in me to speak out even though we were only suppose to speak the names back to our grandparents. LaRock is the maiden name of my maternal great grandmother, Adelaide, who was of the First Nations of Canada. This part of my family’s heritage was denied for so long, swept under the carpet and (intentionally) forgotten even within my own family, and I realized then that this was the main reason I was brought to this ceremony with John (although all of my ancestors were honored): to finally honor that part of my family, that forgotten bloodline, and that aspect of myself. When John spoke of the pain of the forgotten Red People, I felt that pain within my heart — the pain of denial – and, with the release and relief of that blood finally being acknowledged, I wept. My ancestors wept, through me. And I felt a lightness of being, suddenly, that persists to this day, though I have since been continuing the work in order to understand the circumstances around the denial of my great-grandmother’s people. I feel that a rift had been mended between all my ancestors, and so a healing took place within me as well.

My dreams that night were vivid and prophetic.

Now, this was my experience with John and his medicine, and I knew at the end of that weekend ceremony that I needed to somehow bring him to my community, to you. Your own experience with this powerful medicine may be different, depending on where you are on your path and what healing needs to be done in your life. But I can guarantee that there will be healing and there will be dancing and singing and drumming. And in the midst of it all, you will learn some teachings that you might not even recognize as such right away. But they will sink into your bones and by their very nature, they will change you.

I was thrilled when John agreed to come to Syracuse. This is a rare opportunity to have someone of this caliber come to us to teach! What a blessing. What an honor! And if you have any inkling that you might want to be part of this wonderful process, please register with me immediately. You see, John needs to know that he has a guaranteed minimum in order to be able to cover his travel expenses to Syracuse from South Africa, so now is the time to step forward with the fee for the May 3-4 workshop and say, “Yes, I am attending” so we at least know we have the minimum. Otherwise, he won’t be coming – and that would be a shame. We need to demonstrate support for traditional indigenous shamans and medicine folk, for this is the true healing for the earth and for ourselves that those of us in Western culture crave.

John will also be scheduling private sessions while he’s in town, so get in touch with me if you are interested in that, too. Contact me to register. Or feel free to mail your check or money order made out to:

Cindy L. McGinley
5900 N. Burdick St.
Suite 201
East Syracuse, NY 13057

Paid registrants will receive further details and directions closer to the event. Hope to see you there!

- CLM

Reminder: Happiness Generator Presentation This Thursday

Learn the powerful 7-step process to raise your happiness level…

The Happiness Generator

People who are happy…

- Earn $750,000+ more in their lifetimes
- Are more fulfilled, relaxed, and energetic
- Live longer, healthier lives

Based on Marci Shimoff’s New York Times best-selling book Happy for
No Reason: 7 Steps to Being Happy from the Inside Out, in this dynamic
session, you will:

• Quickly raise your physical, emotional, and mental energy.
• Learn habits that support the biochemistry of happiness.
• Discover a natural state of peace and joy—no matter what is going on in your life.
• Enhance all your relationships.

PRESENTATION COST: $40
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 6 P.M. TO 7:30 P.M.
THE ROSEHEART CENTER — 5900 N. BURDICK ST., SUITE 201, E. SYRACUSE, NY 13057

Call Cindy at 315.289.2030 for more information. Hope to see you there!

The Truth About Hypnosis

What Is Hypnosis?

           The mind has basically two states: the conscious and subconscious.  Generally, when you are in a conscious state, you are aware of your immediate surroundings and can react to things happening around you.  During this time your subconscious mind is pushed into the background, but it is still present to a small amount.  When you are daydreaming or absorbed in a task where you are very focused and feel like you have lost track of time, such as when you are exercising, or doing something you that really enjoy like listening to music, and you are “in the zone,” your subconscious mind comes forward pushing the conscious mind into the background, sort of like a seesaw.  When this happens you are actually experiencing a state of hypnosis.  Other times you may have experienced hypnosis would be when you are driving a car on a route you drive regularly and you are very relaxed, but you suddenly realize that you’ve arrived at home or work and don’t remember exactly all the steps on how you got there, yet you got home or to work safely.  Or maybe you are painting a picture or reading a book and you are enjoying yourself so much that you lose track of time—again, what has happened is you have entered into a state of self-hypnosis.  So, as you can see hypnosis is a natural state of mind, it’s just your subconscious mind becoming more active.

            Now, it’s important to know that when you’re experiencing hypnosis you will not do anything that you would not do while you’re in a conscious state of mind.  Therefore, you do not surrender your will.  During hypnosis you are able to make decisions at all times and no one can force you to do anything you wouldn’t normally do.  When you are experiencing hypnosis you do not become unconscious. And, in fact, you are able to speak while you are in a hypnotic state.  You cannot be forced to tell secrets about yourself or about other people.  Another myth is that only a weak minded person can be hypnotized, but this isn’t the case.  Hypnosis requires being able to focus, so, the more intelligent you are, the more easily you can reach the state of hypnosis.  Because of this, being able to become hypnotized doesn’t make you gullible; it shows that you are capable of being focused.  If you are concerned that you might become “stuck” in the hypnotic state, don’t be.  Since a person is capable of self-hypnosis, they can also bring themselves out of hypnosis. 

            Once you are in the hypnotic state, and you may have heard this also referred to as being in a trance, your subconscious mind has moved forward and you conscious mind had been moved into the background.  You are in a more relaxed state and your subconscious mind is more able to accept positive suggestions.  Again, it’s important to remember that you will not do anything that you won’t be willing to do while you are not experiencing hypnosis.  Because of this, you will be able to take the suggestions that you feel are right for you and allow yourself to begin to experience the changes that you want to make in your life, such as eliminating negative or unwanted habits, improving your learning process, memory, and concentration.  Hypnosis can also help you to develop more self-confidence, eliminate stage fright, and improve your athletic abilities as well as improve in other social and educational areas that are of a nonmedical nature.

HYPNOSIS: THE ANSWER FOR STRESS REDUCTION

 

 Every person in the world has experienced stress. It affects men and women, rich or poor, young and old. Different people try to reduce or even try to eliminate stress from their life. The one problem with attempting this on your own is that the results are usually temporary. Using hypnotic techniques could be the answer to reducing your stress level.

 

Why worry about stress?

Although most people will know when they are under stress, they may not know what the dangers of stress are. Stress causes dozens of different dangerous symptoms that affects us physical as well as mentally.

The most dangerous effects of stress:

About 75% of all doctor’s visits are stress related.

Stress cost American companies over 150 billion dollars a year.

Stress can be the cause of strokes, heart attacks, ulcers, hypertension, and even death.

Poor concentration, poor memory, tiredness, and migraine can be traced to stress.

Stress has been linked to excess drinking and drug use.

Stress is the cause of missing work at a number of 1,751,000 days per year.

Stress causes one to make more mistakes, trouble concentrating, to stop caring about their job, family, or other events in their life.

Stress has been called the “Health Epidemic of the 21st Century.”

Over 75% of workers feel that they have more stress from their jobs than a generation ago.

Stress is America’s number one health problem.

Myths about hypnosis.

There are many myths about hypnosis that have been created from movies, novels, and TV shows. The four most common myths are that under hypnosis you are out of control. The second fallacy is that while hypnotized, you will be forced to tell the truth. Number three on our list is the belief that you might become stuck in hypnosis. The final element is that there are people who cannot be hypnotized.

Facts about hypnosis.

You will never lose control while hypnotized; you actually take control of your life by using more of your mentally abilities. Hypnosis does not work as a truth serum; in fact, you could easily lie while under hypnosis. It seems a little silly to think about anyone getting stuck in hypnosis. Hypnosis has been around since the 1700s and no one has ever been stuck in hypnosis. It is a fact that anyone over the age of five can be hypnotized.

I offer private individual hypnosis sessions to counter the stress in your life. I am also offering a group workshop in October. To learn more, contact me at info@blackhorseconsulting or 315.289.2030.

Shamanic Counseling/Coaching Summer Special

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Registration Now Open for the Second ECIR Group No Laminitis! Conference

Registration is now open for the second ECIR Group Inc., NO LAMINITIS! Conference.

A complete lecture schedule and registration, via Pay Pal or check, may be found here:

http://www.nolaminitis.org

When: September 27 – 29, 2013
Where: Jacksonville, Oregon
Featured Speakers : Eleanor M. Kellon, VMD
Robert M. Bowker, VMD, PhD
Courtney Diehl, DVM, PC
Joan Kulifay
Kathleen Gustafson
Jannalee Smithey
Linda Ables

Registrations received by August 15, 2013 qualify for Early Bird ticket discount price of $150.00.
Registration after August 15, 2013 will be $175.00.
Registrations must be in by September 18, 2013.

Many plans have been finalized including Friday night Meet and Greet, and Saturday BBQ, thanks to our Platinum and Gold Benefactors.

Platinum Benefactors

Soft Ride Boots
Auburn Labs – APF

Gold Benefactors

California Trace
Black Horse Consulting
Horse Tech
My Best Horse
New England Equine Balance
The Cranneys at Oak Ranch Stables, California
Anderson Feed – Nuzu Feed
Jannalee Smithey, EDO, Oregon

Please tell these companies you appreciate their support the next time you talk with them or visit their web sites.

The NO LAMINITIS ! Conference will take place in Jacksonville, Oregon, starting with the Friday Meet and Greet at the Jacksonville Inn. A block of rooms has been set aside at the Jacksonville Inn, the Wine Country Inn and at the Rogue Regency Inn in nearby Medford. The Medford Airport is 18 minutes from Jacksonville.

Check out the VENUE button at www.nolaminitis.org for more information. When you reserve, let them know you are with the ECIR Group, NO Laminitis! Conference.

Did you know you can also see and like the ECIR Group on Facebook?

Special thanks to Patti K for all her fabulous cyber work!

May Grand Opening Special! Heart & Soul Coaching Package!

Black Horse Consulting Grand Opening Special:
Heart & Soul Coaching Package

To celebrate RoseHeart’s opening at 5900 North Burdick St., E. Syracuse!

Because Shamanic Life Coaching is BETTER than therapy for those who are action-oriented!

This 3-month package includes:

- One intake session (90 minutes).
- Three in-person or telephone coaching dates per month, 50 minutes each.
- One 30-minute divinatory shamanic journey a month, subject of your choice. You do not need to be present for this — we can connect by phone.
- One soul retrieval with follow-up. A soul retrieval appointment can include things like restoring lost power, extraction of intrusive energy, soul remembering , or other types of healing. (2 hours)
- One past-life regression. (2 hours)
- 24/7 email correspondence – response guaranteed within 24 hours.

All at the substantially discounted cost of $550.00 per month when you sign up for 3 months (minimum recommended time for coaching results). You save $150.00 — AND receive an extra 10% discount if you pre-pay the full 3 months! (That’s an extra $165.00 savings!)

Contact:
Cindy L. McGinley
Black Horse Consulting
315.289.2030
www.blackhorseconsulting.com
info@blackhorseconsulting.com

Hurry, because once May is gone, so is this offer!

R.I.P., Moby-Moby!

As if a concussion wasn’t enough to dampen my June, my beautiful cat, Moby, the feline love of my life, was killed on Saturday, June 23, 2012 by a careless driver. They say what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. By that reckoning, I should be freakin’ MIGHTY by now.

Now, here is a bizarre story.

I didn’t even know Moby was dead until Monday. I let him out, as usual, on Friday evening when I went out to the barn to do my evening chores. He was never the kind of cat you could keep inside if he didn’t want to be there. He had come to me as a “feral” tom — just showed up on my doorstep one day and stayed. He looked just like my grandmother’s cat, Mister, a cat I grew up with as a child. As you can see from the picture, he was that gorgeous gunmetal grey color characteristic of the Russian Blue. And those green eyes! I was smitten, even though he was terribly underweight and had that bad habit of intact male cats: spraying. He also attacked and terrorized my other two cats, but his disposition toward humans, and me in particular, was such that I wanted to make it work — and once I had him neutered and taught him a few manners regarding the other cats and the rabbit, it did. But I digress.

I had to take a ride to Herkimer, an hour away, to get a special feed for my horse, Alf. So I left on Saturday around 11:30 a.m. I ate lunch in Herkimer, and got back home with the feed about 3 p.m. I had noticed that Moby wasn’t waiting outside the door like he usually is in the morning, but he has been known to do that occasionally, so I wasn’t too worried.

When Sunday rolled around and he still wasn’t home, I was concerned. Still, there was a time he had been missing for 5 days and had come home smelling greasy, like he’d been locked in a mechanic’s garage. After that, every time I let him out the door, I would tease him with, “Don’t forget where you live.” For six years, I have been saying that to him. I was hoping now that something like the garage incident had happened again, but deep in my heart, I was scared.

By Monday morning, I was frantic. I awakened knowing that something terrible had happened. To make a long story short, some investigation around the neighborhood turned up his body. My friends went knocking on doors. As well as I can piece it together, this is what happened:

I left for Herkimer. Sometime between the time I left and the time I returned, Moby was on his way home from across the street and got hit and killed by someone who didn’t even stop. Now, this was a 20 pound cat. There’s no way anyone could have mistaken him for a bump in the road. My neighbor across the street picked him up out of the road so his kids wouldn’t see the cat and be upset (since they just lost their little dog to the same road the week before). He placed Moby’s body back in the woods behind his house — something I am grateful for, actually. Because he did that (instead of calling the town to pick him up or throwing him in the trash), I was able to recover his body and bring him home. And even though it kept Moby’s death from me for two days, it also kept his body from being further damaged by other vehicles. (One should be grateful for whatever one can.) We buried him in the garden with honor and a ceremony befitting a great spirit.

It used to give me such great joy every day just to see him, and I marveled at being so loved by this wonderful cat. He followed me from room to room like a puppy…always had to be wherever I was. He was amazingly kind to small children, forgiving every pulled tail and unintentional indignity they showered upon him. Everyone who knew him, loved him.

I still see him everywhere, in my mind’s eye…by the kitchen counter, where he used to beg for dog food alongside Connor, in the bay window where he loved to wait for me to come home, in the garden nibbling the catnip, sleeping curled up in this chair or that one, flopping in front of me to get his belly rubbed, running joyfully across the yard to join me as I came in from the barn…there is no place on my farm that doesn’t remind me of Moby. I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop feeling like I have been sucker-punched in the gut by the universe. Repeatedly.

I know Moby was a free spirit on his own life path, making his own choices. I am grateful that our paths crossed for a time, but that time was far too brief, and the end so very unexpected. He was road-savvy. He was terrified of cars. And there is a stop sign quite near to where he was killed, so speed wasn’t (or should not have been) an issue. It doesn’t make sense — which leaves me with thoughts about humans behind the wheel of a car that are just too horrible to contemplate.

I will miss him forever. I maintain the hope of my faith that maybe he’ll decide to return to me someday, and that comforts me a bit. But right now, my loss is deep, and my heart is shattered.

- CLM

Concussion

On June 2, 2012, I sustained a concussion. I must admit that, like most people, I had no idea how serious a concussion can be. Over the past month, I’ve learned first-hand that a concussion is a brain injury that may take 3 to 6 months to heal.

I didn’t go to the doctor right away, because I thought I was ok at first. Here’s what happened: I was clobbered with my 1600 lb. horse’s huge head as he swung it around toward me, from under my right jaw, slamming my jaw and teeth together and driving my head up to the left. My tongue was cut on the left side from being slammed against my teeth, and my face was swollen at the connection of jaw to skull, worse on the left. My face was sore for a week or more under my cheekbones and my teeth hurt. I very nearly was knocked unconscious, and had to “shake it off” like a boxer. I got a headache immediately, and have had one every day since. The next morning I was nauseous, but didn’t really connect it at the time. I went out with friends, went walking, did all my normal stuff as though nothing had happened. Yes, my physical innjuries hurt, but I would heal. No big deal, right? It wasn’t until a friend mentioned to me that I didn’t seem myself and maybe I should go see someone about it that I seriously considered the doctor. By then I realized that everything was upsetting me, that I was getting these bad headaches when I got upset and then needed to sleep (like, immediately). I finally saw a physician’s assistant over a week after the incident, and he said I had a concussion and sent me for a CT scan to make sure I wasn’t bleeding in the brain. It was pronounced “normal.”

Imagine my surprise when I found myself continuing to get upset about the slightest things, getting headaches every time I got upset, getting headaches and blurry vision while trying to read, and not being able to concentrate for any length of time. Sleeping for 10 to 14 hours a night, with frequent daytime naps. Searching desperately for words, as though the pathways were jumbled or my brain had to take a long detour to get to where I wanted to go. At times I was confused. If someone didn’t remind me of what I was supposed to be doing (for instance, while grocery shopping), I was lost.

   As my brain began to heal, I realized that I don’t remember much from the week following the injury, and people had to tell me stuff over again. I got really tired of hearing, “But I told you that last week — don’t you remember?” I struggled to find words in my normally extensive vocabulary, and sometimes had to settle for something close (but not quite right). My words would come out of my mouth in such a mixed-up way that even I had to laugh and marvel over what I had just said. I struggled to remember how to spell some simple words — an annoying handicap for a wordsmith.

I continued to have occasional nausea, amd the afternoon headaches were debilitating. I got behind in my summer course because of my symptoms, and finally had to admit to myself that I was in no shape to continue. I was allowed to drop the course late without penalty.

The emotional aspect and the duration of the concussion symptoms came as quite a surprise to me. I guess I thought I would be fine after a week or two. After some investigation, I talked with Don Brady, a psychologist who specializes in sports-related concussion ( www.donbrady.com ). He was kind enough to point me toward some articles concerning sports-related concussion, two of which you can find on his website if you are interested. Basically, I learned that I should rest, and shouldn’t be taxing my brain. That the symptoms may last months. I learned interesting stuff that I never knew about concussion, such as the fact that people over 40 don’t recover as quickly and have more post-concussion effects. That a “normal” CT scan doesn’t mean there isn’t a brain injury. That in addition to the actual site of brain trauma, the biochemical signals get all mixed up across the entire brain for a time and need to be given a chance to get back to normal. That the cognitive and emotional aspects of concussion (which is a brain injury) are often not taken into account, and that the brain needs time to heal.

It has been almost a month since my horse gave me what was essentially a left uppercut to the jaw with several hundred pounds of force behind it. I am lucky that I was not injured more severely. But it has taken me this long to feel able to write about it, and the headaches continue, especially when I get emotional or spend too much time using my eyes and brain. The word salad seems to be correcting itself now, and I am not quite so exhausted every day. I feel that I can slowly start adding back my responsibilities and client load. I am scheduled to see a neurologist and an eye doctor. A friend has also recommended an acupuncturist.

I feel much more like myself, improving daily, but I’m still just one click off the dial. The experts say that time and rest (and jigsaw puzzles) are the answer. In the meantime, I have to write lists for myself, and hope that the people I forget to call or email back are understanding.

Oh, and I keep forgetting to re-schedule a missed grooming appointment for my dog, Connor, so I’m off to do that now while it’s on my mind. :-)

Blessings,
CLM

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