Concussion

For the last several weeks, I have been dealing with the aftermath of what I suspect is a concussion.

Frantically loading our car to return from a trip to visit family, I slammed my head - not once but twice - into the sturdy, unforgiving frame of our Ford Flex. I know, I’m an idiot.

The initial daze and pain wore off but over the following days, I felt a growing fullness and fog in my head. A pressure from within was pressing on my forehead as if something was trying to escape.

The headache and daze were exacerbated anytime I used a screen. The smaller the screen and the more scrolling the worse I felt. Still in a desire to work, write and make progress against an unrelenting “to do” list, I resisted the number one recommendation when concussed - to avoid screens.

Eventually I realized the error of my ways as my symptoms failed to subside. I was also noticing more issues with recalling information that is typically top of mind but now stuck behind a sludge of swollen brain tissue.

So I took a break. I went off screen for most of the weekend. Not picking up my phone at all and only using my computer when absolutely necessary.

The improvement in my state of mind was noticeable. At a time when I would have normally been fixated by something on my computer, I instead sat on my patio, closed my eyes and just listened to the sounds around me. The beautiful calls of birds I could not name, the rumbling of cars going here and there, the wind causing the subtle brushing sound of trees swaying. At one point, my eyes still closed, I tried to locate where each chirp or whir was coming from. It was such a peaceful exercise.

On a surface level, one could say I was doing nothing. I would argue I was doing more than I would typically be doing. I was being present. I was deeply listening. I was using my mind in a way that I don’t typically do. And of course, I was relaxing and I was probably healing.

While I wouldn’t wish a concussion on anyone - and unfortunately I believe I’ve had more than a few - there is unintended benefit. It forced me to put away my devices and see more plainly the obvious discomfort they inflict upon us.

The eyes weren’t intended to scroll. They were made to see. Our minds weren’t made to be constantly distracted. They are there to help us focus.

Perhaps, this week for a day, pretend you have a concussion. Tell your boss or your family that you’re going off line for health reasons. You’d be telling the truth.

This Week’s Recommendation: Find a seemingly quiet spot outside on a beautiful day. Sit somewhere comfortably and close your eyes and just listen.

Share this with someone who could use a break from a screen.