Navigating

This is my first post!

Momentous, I know; I’ve wanted to start getting my voice out into the blogosphere for longer than I’ll admit.

Procrastination can be an artform, y’know.

Regardless, here I am, for better or worse, rich or poor ( poor = status quo ), until death parts me from this body.

Again. Parts me again, but more on that in a few.

I’m here to grace you, my dear reader, with the words that represent the nature of my being at any given moment. Think about it: we have the power of written language. It’s a shame that power, whether read or written, isn’t tapped more often by more people. Maybe the world wouldn’t be in the mess it is now …

I’ll refrain from waxing catastrophic, at least for now. And it’s not only about what the written word can do for a person. Love plays a major role, too. In fact, one could argue that love, unconditional and universal, is the ultimate answer. The ultimate answer and power that can pull us up by the bootstraps out of this devisive, toxic, ream of absolutes and extremes that threaten to undermine centuries of progress.

So about this blog. It’s my personal platform to do what I do best: share thoughts and experiences and let the reader - you - take from these words what you will. If you get nothing from reading my words, so be it. But then I ask, why the fuck are you still reading?

Hey, it’s a fair question. If you’re here to find something to criticize, go away. The world has enough critics.

If you’re here out of curiosity, to learn something about me and what I’m learning from life …

And death …

Then welcome! Read on.

Yes, I said death. I died in a severe, freak, car accident. Just ask Mike, one of the first responders who pulled me from the mangled twists of metal that had once been my car. He later told me, after a few months of what would turn out to be a year of residential rehabilitation, that I had no heartbeat when they extricated me. Oh, and I wasn't breathing either – I had to cut a hole in my larynx so that I could breathe through my throat. If you don't believe me, I have the scars to show it.

Thank the powers that there are defibrillators! They shocked my heart back to a stable rhythm and carted me to the nearest emergency room.

It was at the ER that the doctor told my then-girlfriend that family should be contacted, that I may nor survive the day.

But survive I did, I survived the day. I survived a tracheotomy, being intubated and placed on a ventilator, chest tubes …

It’s easier just to tell you I survived 10 surgeries and a year of physical rehabilitation.

What I survived isn’t as important as it is to express that I survived when it wasn’t expected that I would.

Yet here I am writing this post, you lucky reader!

I have so much to tell you. So many observations and lessons learned. It’s enough to fill a book … and it probably will fill a book, if not more than one. That’s for another day and a separate project. This blog is for my daily thoughts … ramblings sometimes. never is it for creative nonfiction.

I do reserve the right to include excerpts of these posts in said nonfiction as the narrative requires.

Where was I?

Right! I was talking about surviving my accident and what it took for me to get where I am today. Except I didn’t talk much yet about what it took for me to get to a place of independence again.

That’s enough for now …