I was listening to Slick Rick earlier today and wondered how things were going with your eyepatch. Anytime I've seen someone wear one they've looked cool as hell, so at least at the times it's necessary you'll have that going for you. May you have many more moments of seeing people correctly without the need for a patch though. I love the different ways that light is playing in so much of these photos by the way.
Thank you, Sarah. It seems as my eyes get better I'll have the best of both worlds: either I can forgo the patch and intermittently have those nice moments, or I can wear one and look cool as hell. Glad you enjoyed the photos. When I write not purely about birds I enjoy the freedom to use whatever photos evoke the feelings I want.
I very much admire your courage and strength in working through your injury, but also the courage it takes to share a very personal journey. Know that your teachings are like ripples in a pond, spreading out from one small place to be felt by many. Bravo to you. Keep going and keep sharing.
Thank you Christopher. Ripples in a pond is high praise, that's what I aim for. I see this injury as a valuable learning experience, so feel compelled to share what I learn from it so people can share in the lessons without coming to learn them the less-than-desirable way I did.
You inspire confidence, Mr. Freitas. Your writing and photography are stunning, and your strengths of character and faith in yourself leave me awestruck every time. As always, I am very pleased whenever you post. My eyes have been opened to true empathy by you and a number of very talented birders here on Substack. Best of luck to you. Thank you.
Like you, James, I refuse to believe that your recovery will not be ongoing when I think of cell death and regeneration. I know that nerve cells are in a very slow-growing category, but still. Your relentless training is a huge commitment. When you combine this with seeking pleasure and beauty (endorphins) through birding and photography (the photos in this essay are stunning by the way) and throw in a good amount of Rest. Then it stands to reason that you are doing everything right. I think you have every reason to expect that you will keep gaining ground.
Thank you, Ann. It is encouraging to hear somebody else express that belief, a qualified opinion from a medical professional. Sometimes I wonder if my stalwart belief I will always improve is really just naiveté, but as you say the wonderful confluence of healing, endorphins, nature, and art make my efforts worth it either way.
Thank you, James, for continuing to share your recovery and lessons from living with a tbi. I really like all of the photos that intersperse your writing, and the double image of the water bottles gives a deeper appreciation of what you see. Your reading of Invictus is moving.
Thank you Heidi. When I write heavier, less birdy stuff, I like to use the photos as a way to intersperse lightness. Invictus is a poem that has stuck with me since boyhood.
Dear James, Sending you so much compassion. ❤️I too, have had 3 eye surgeries for strabismus. I had them when I was ages, 2,3, and 5. It is amazing how much you have endured and how much you have overcome. I celebrate you 🙌🏻🙌🏻. Your strength, your courage, your love for life.. to strive for the highest possible level of happiness and prosperity. ..Just wanted you to know.. I see you and I really enjoy your pictures, and appreciate your words. ❤️❣️Have a wonderful day, friend ☀️!
Thank you for sharing your story and TBI recovery, James. I like the poem you included and especially the final lines about being a master of fate and captain of the soul.
Very powerful piece, James. I empathize with your injury, but appreciate your resistance and determination to regain your strengths. Walking is great exercise. Following your therapist's suggestions on better speech is important.
Glad you have avenues of optimism with your photography, fishing, and birding. I'm impressed with your pictures: you have patience and talent. Your persistence in getting better is admirable. It seems you've come a long way in two years; that is commendable.
Thank you for sharing your experience. I admire your determination and insistence that you improve your physical condition.
Thank you, Tom. Birding is definitely a guiding light on this long journey of improvement. All the avenues you mention--photography, fishing, birds--reinforce the beauty of the world.
Such a powerful piece, James. You’re right, there is no endpoint to recovery, and setting one can discourage a lot of people. Thank you for sharing this!
Thank you for sharing your journey with us! I didn't know anything about TBI recovery and all the related challenges. We can learn a lot from your determination and attitude towards the struggles we face in life. I wish you all the best for your recovery!
Thank you, Pamela. I will continue to share writing about this, I want to offer what I learn from this so people can appreciate the same lessons without having to get a TBI.
I’m glad that resonated with you. There is always reason to keep trying if you truly want something. Maybe you have to adjust expectations, but you can always try.
James, my parents were big on the old adages, so “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” is stuck in my head.
I agree the lessons of your TBI can be related to other aspects of life. That’s the wonder of personal essays, how aspects of them can meet the reader in their own different experience and still resonate.
Your distinction between denial and refusal is brilliant. Denial suggests a turning away from reality, while refusal is an active stance against letting that reality dictate your future. You acknowledge what happened, but you refuse to let it define you negatively. This is such a crucial point. It's about taking control, even in the face of something that feels utterly uncontrollable. It's about finding agency in your own story. This idea of refusal as a form of empowerment is something I think many people can relate to, regardless of their circumstances. We all face challenges, and the way we choose to respond—whether we passively accept or actively refuse—shapes our lives in profound ways. Your essay is a masterclass in choosing refusal.
Thank you, Alexander. I’m glad you noted the denial/refusal distinction. I like your description of the latter as “an active stance.” “Active” is key. Denial is passive unwillingness to accept a reality, but passivity in a way makes us accept it. We do nothing about it. Refusal is the same unwillingness, but requires us to think of ways we can make tangible moves to be unwilling, enact our agency to refuse it.
I was listening to Slick Rick earlier today and wondered how things were going with your eyepatch. Anytime I've seen someone wear one they've looked cool as hell, so at least at the times it's necessary you'll have that going for you. May you have many more moments of seeing people correctly without the need for a patch though. I love the different ways that light is playing in so much of these photos by the way.
Thank you, Sarah. It seems as my eyes get better I'll have the best of both worlds: either I can forgo the patch and intermittently have those nice moments, or I can wear one and look cool as hell. Glad you enjoyed the photos. When I write not purely about birds I enjoy the freedom to use whatever photos evoke the feelings I want.
I very much admire your courage and strength in working through your injury, but also the courage it takes to share a very personal journey. Know that your teachings are like ripples in a pond, spreading out from one small place to be felt by many. Bravo to you. Keep going and keep sharing.
Thank you Christopher. Ripples in a pond is high praise, that's what I aim for. I see this injury as a valuable learning experience, so feel compelled to share what I learn from it so people can share in the lessons without coming to learn them the less-than-desirable way I did.
You inspire confidence, Mr. Freitas. Your writing and photography are stunning, and your strengths of character and faith in yourself leave me awestruck every time. As always, I am very pleased whenever you post. My eyes have been opened to true empathy by you and a number of very talented birders here on Substack. Best of luck to you. Thank you.
Thank you very much, Gary. Substack does boast a community of exceptional birders, each with a story. I feel fortunate to be part of it.
Like you, James, I refuse to believe that your recovery will not be ongoing when I think of cell death and regeneration. I know that nerve cells are in a very slow-growing category, but still. Your relentless training is a huge commitment. When you combine this with seeking pleasure and beauty (endorphins) through birding and photography (the photos in this essay are stunning by the way) and throw in a good amount of Rest. Then it stands to reason that you are doing everything right. I think you have every reason to expect that you will keep gaining ground.
Thank you, Ann. It is encouraging to hear somebody else express that belief, a qualified opinion from a medical professional. Sometimes I wonder if my stalwart belief I will always improve is really just naiveté, but as you say the wonderful confluence of healing, endorphins, nature, and art make my efforts worth it either way.
💯🙏❤️
“If you want change, take action. Sometimes the best action is to wait patiently.” Pure gold here James.
I’m really rooting for you on your journey. I appreciate your reflections and the insights you share.
Thank you, Emma. The important part about always feeling a need to take action is the realization that sometimes the most fruitful action, isn't.
Thank you, James, for continuing to share your recovery and lessons from living with a tbi. I really like all of the photos that intersperse your writing, and the double image of the water bottles gives a deeper appreciation of what you see. Your reading of Invictus is moving.
Thank you Heidi. When I write heavier, less birdy stuff, I like to use the photos as a way to intersperse lightness. Invictus is a poem that has stuck with me since boyhood.
Dear James, Sending you so much compassion. ❤️I too, have had 3 eye surgeries for strabismus. I had them when I was ages, 2,3, and 5. It is amazing how much you have endured and how much you have overcome. I celebrate you 🙌🏻🙌🏻. Your strength, your courage, your love for life.. to strive for the highest possible level of happiness and prosperity. ..Just wanted you to know.. I see you and I really enjoy your pictures, and appreciate your words. ❤️❣️Have a wonderful day, friend ☀️!
Thank you, Joy. I appreciate you reading and commenting, and wish you a wonderful day as well.
Thank you for sharing your story and TBI recovery, James. I like the poem you included and especially the final lines about being a master of fate and captain of the soul.
Those lines do end the poem with a sense of undaunted determination. Thank you for reading and for commenting, Neil.
Very powerful piece, James. I empathize with your injury, but appreciate your resistance and determination to regain your strengths. Walking is great exercise. Following your therapist's suggestions on better speech is important.
Glad you have avenues of optimism with your photography, fishing, and birding. I'm impressed with your pictures: you have patience and talent. Your persistence in getting better is admirable. It seems you've come a long way in two years; that is commendable.
Thank you for sharing your experience. I admire your determination and insistence that you improve your physical condition.
All the best,
Tom Dresser
Thank you, Tom. Birding is definitely a guiding light on this long journey of improvement. All the avenues you mention--photography, fishing, birds--reinforce the beauty of the world.
Such a powerful piece, James. You’re right, there is no endpoint to recovery, and setting one can discourage a lot of people. Thank you for sharing this!
Thank you for reading, Kelly
Thank you for sharing your journey with us! I didn't know anything about TBI recovery and all the related challenges. We can learn a lot from your determination and attitude towards the struggles we face in life. I wish you all the best for your recovery!
Thank you for reading along, Maja! I appreciate your kind wishes for my recovery.
James, I am so proud of you for sharing your story with all of us and for persevering and being tenacious is your desire to overcome whatever you can.
This resonated with me: "When you can’t do something, keep trying. Try new ways." I am a firm believer in this philosophy.
Keep moving forward James. You are such an inspiration. ✨️
Thank you, Pamela. I will continue to share writing about this, I want to offer what I learn from this so people can appreciate the same lessons without having to get a TBI.
I’m glad that resonated with you. There is always reason to keep trying if you truly want something. Maybe you have to adjust expectations, but you can always try.
James, my parents were big on the old adages, so “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” is stuck in my head.
I agree the lessons of your TBI can be related to other aspects of life. That’s the wonder of personal essays, how aspects of them can meet the reader in their own different experience and still resonate.
Thanks for writing these, James. Your perseverance is showing results.
Thank you for reading and for your support, Thomas.
"I don’t deny what happened, but refuse to let it negatively define me."
A brilliant and importance distinction, James. Thanks for showing us what "resilience" really looks like! 👏
Thank you, Baird! A very important distinction. Denial gives the situation power over you; refusal gives you power over the situation.
Your distinction between denial and refusal is brilliant. Denial suggests a turning away from reality, while refusal is an active stance against letting that reality dictate your future. You acknowledge what happened, but you refuse to let it define you negatively. This is such a crucial point. It's about taking control, even in the face of something that feels utterly uncontrollable. It's about finding agency in your own story. This idea of refusal as a form of empowerment is something I think many people can relate to, regardless of their circumstances. We all face challenges, and the way we choose to respond—whether we passively accept or actively refuse—shapes our lives in profound ways. Your essay is a masterclass in choosing refusal.
Thank you, Alexander. I’m glad you noted the denial/refusal distinction. I like your description of the latter as “an active stance.” “Active” is key. Denial is passive unwillingness to accept a reality, but passivity in a way makes us accept it. We do nothing about it. Refusal is the same unwillingness, but requires us to think of ways we can make tangible moves to be unwilling, enact our agency to refuse it.
You're very courageous! And winning all the way...
Thank you so much, Pamela, for your support and for reading.