Praying for you, congrats on all your achievements! Be careful about the meds, especially if used more than briefly- they may cause the very problems they were originally taken to relieve. This is the case with many drugs, for example, opioids- which eventually cause pain.
God is real and He is Love. If you ask Him and seek the truth, you will find Him, because He wants to be found. He created and holds everything, but He hides from us in order to give us a true choice, a free will. Seek Him like you sought the black hawk He made. And don’t settle for an ambiguous sighting. Then you will know a deeper healing and hope. God bless you!
Oh my, James, of course I had no idea you had endured all this. I'm sorry. Thank you so much for writing so beautifully about it. It's a powerful story, but I like the way you spool it out, bringing the birds in as you go. (Thank God for birds!) I hope you will continue to write about this. Such hard work you're doing and I really applaud you. I understand the "being hard on yourself" part, but I find, too, like Wallace, that it's less about them and more about me. Still: hard.
Thank you so much, Susie, for your kind words and for reading. Thank God for birds, indeed! I will write about recovery every so often, it's become a large part of my life. I try to relate it to birds.
Yes, I do still spend time on the Vineyard. It's played a large part in getting better. That seasonal job and the farm were both on the island, my return to driving began on island roads. Such a special place, it's always been part of my life and will remain so.
(Cook the Vineyard is me too, so I started to reply on that and switched back). Well, just a thought, if you ever feel like writing a commentary for the Vineyard Gazette - something focused like learning to drive again on the Island - I can put you in touch with the person who I think would be interested in considering something like that, because your writing has just the right feel. (I work as the special projects editor for the Gazette)..Summer is crazy and we're all busy so communication can be strung out, but you can always direct message me at some point if you have something you think might fit.
Thank you so much, Susie! It would be so great to write about what it was like to get back to driving on the island for the Gazette—the four way stops, specific intersections. I can imagine the insanity of summer, but will reach out directly once I have a more concrete premise for the idea.
This is a beautiful memoir, James. I hope that the community you are finding here on Substack will help you with your healing. I learn so much from your posts and find them to be fascinating journeys and field trips into the natural world and especially into the lives of birds.
Thank you, Heidi. Substack has become a pillar for me, I started December 2020 but really leaned more on it in recovery. It’s such a fantastic community, I am so grateful to have been introduced to writers like you! And am happy to hear you enjoy what I write.
James, I have an overwhelming urge to hug you, so I am sending one to you now virtually. Everything you are feeling is natural and I am glad to read you are making progress my friend. Thank you for sharing your account of your traumatic brain injury here with us all. I hope you continue to gain strength and balance, and I am happy that you are still birding. You are a remarkable young man, I am happy that I met you here.
Thank you, Pamela, for your kind, encouraging words. As I continue improving on this long and winding road, birding is massively helpful—as are your affirmations, which have found me exactly when needed on more than one occasion. I am very glad to have met you here also, and enjoy reading your perspective on places I’ve known throughout my years.
Thanks so much James for sharing about your tramautic brain injury, which you got through no fault of your own driving a rental car in search of a rare bird. I understand a bit about recovery and healing and the means of this through Nature, and in particular birds.
For me it has been cancer (2012) and a broken right arm and dislocated shoulder (2019) and tinnitus (2021) post Covid. David Foster Wallace is right.
I think that we all can get down and be hard on ourselves, especially after such a trauma to our bodies, our minds. I have a bird companion, Arya the Cockatiel. He is 95 grams of intelligence, beauty and faithfullness. Arya is magic: I think you understand. You are well on your way, James.
Thank you for your kindness, Perry—and of course for the restack. I was reluctant to write this but it’s been a pretty domineering fixture in my life since 2022. I am fortunate to be at a point where it doesn’t really keep me from doing things, just makes some of those things different.
You have a very thorough understanding of recovery with all you’ve been through. That is a lot to endure and overcome. Birds and nature are key to recovery, which it sounds like Arya the Cockatiel puts more than adequately into evidence. I have a particular Palm Warbler burned into my memory that was there for me when I was profoundly low. Thank you for your encouragement and for commenting, I hope you get to enjoy some ducks and geese soon.
I’m late to commenting on this essay and gorgeous photos. So many words come to my thoughts to offer you, but one is loudest of all… courageous. You are courageous. Thank you for sharing what is happening with you, I hope that you continue. There’s so much for us to learn about other people’s invisible challenges. My favorite photo today is the tiny duckling. So fuzzy, vulnerable yet paddling along. 💞
Thank you so much, Teyani. I will continue to intermittently share about this, as it lasts quite a long time. And I’m glad you enjoyed the duckling! The time of year marked by ducklings, goslings, etc, is perfect for bird photography.
I'm strengthened by your raw love of nature. Your progression is testimony of the force of nature within your heart, and perfecting of your eternal spirit.
I just found your substack, and want to thank you for sharing such a personal journey from a horrible moment that changed everything. Your words, "I get to disregard vestigial elements of an inhibitory mindset to get the help I need," are so beautifully put and just what I'm becoming aware of lately in my own life. The photos are beautiful, and delightful to see up close when I enlarge them on my phone. What a reminder it is to me when I see the wisps of each barbule of each feather so perfectly made, that life is in the details.
Thank you, Doris. I wrote more directly about the TBI in the past, but now try to write about it in relation to my interests. I did just have my third eye surgery on Thursday, so will likely write about my first time out birding after it, as I did about the first two.
I saw my first Black Hawk last month while in Sedona as well. We were at our favorite swim spot on Oak Creek, the only ones there. We heard a call that sounded like osprey, but a bit later saw the black hawk perched (for a long time) on a low hanging branch across the shore from us. It felt special regardless, but moreso when I discovered they are a bit of a rarity in the states.
Your photos are a true gift. I’m glad you have Nature as your ally. I imagine there are things you are learning through your unique healing journey that no one else can - and in that you bless the world. 🙏🏼
Praying for you, congrats on all your achievements! Be careful about the meds, especially if used more than briefly- they may cause the very problems they were originally taken to relieve. This is the case with many drugs, for example, opioids- which eventually cause pain.
God is real and He is Love. If you ask Him and seek the truth, you will find Him, because He wants to be found. He created and holds everything, but He hides from us in order to give us a true choice, a free will. Seek Him like you sought the black hawk He made. And don’t settle for an ambiguous sighting. Then you will know a deeper healing and hope. God bless you!
Thank you for reading and for commenting with kindness and encouragement, Mary!
Oh my, James, of course I had no idea you had endured all this. I'm sorry. Thank you so much for writing so beautifully about it. It's a powerful story, but I like the way you spool it out, bringing the birds in as you go. (Thank God for birds!) I hope you will continue to write about this. Such hard work you're doing and I really applaud you. I understand the "being hard on yourself" part, but I find, too, like Wallace, that it's less about them and more about me. Still: hard.
Do you ever make it to the Vineyard these days?
Thank you so much, Susie, for your kind words and for reading. Thank God for birds, indeed! I will write about recovery every so often, it's become a large part of my life. I try to relate it to birds.
Yes, I do still spend time on the Vineyard. It's played a large part in getting better. That seasonal job and the farm were both on the island, my return to driving began on island roads. Such a special place, it's always been part of my life and will remain so.
Thank you again, Susie.
(Cook the Vineyard is me too, so I started to reply on that and switched back). Well, just a thought, if you ever feel like writing a commentary for the Vineyard Gazette - something focused like learning to drive again on the Island - I can put you in touch with the person who I think would be interested in considering something like that, because your writing has just the right feel. (I work as the special projects editor for the Gazette)..Summer is crazy and we're all busy so communication can be strung out, but you can always direct message me at some point if you have something you think might fit.
Thank you so much, Susie! It would be so great to write about what it was like to get back to driving on the island for the Gazette—the four way stops, specific intersections. I can imagine the insanity of summer, but will reach out directly once I have a more concrete premise for the idea.
This is a beautiful memoir, James. I hope that the community you are finding here on Substack will help you with your healing. I learn so much from your posts and find them to be fascinating journeys and field trips into the natural world and especially into the lives of birds.
Thank you, Heidi. Substack has become a pillar for me, I started December 2020 but really leaned more on it in recovery. It’s such a fantastic community, I am so grateful to have been introduced to writers like you! And am happy to hear you enjoy what I write.
Thank you, James. I’m so pleased to hear this about your experiences and recovery. You have friends here.:)
James you are a fighter! Thank you for sharing your story with us. Btw nice photographs!
Thank you for your kindness, Shital—and I am very glad you like the photos.
Thank you for writing this and sharing it with us.
Thank you, Thomas.
James, I have an overwhelming urge to hug you, so I am sending one to you now virtually. Everything you are feeling is natural and I am glad to read you are making progress my friend. Thank you for sharing your account of your traumatic brain injury here with us all. I hope you continue to gain strength and balance, and I am happy that you are still birding. You are a remarkable young man, I am happy that I met you here.
Thank you, Pamela, for your kind, encouraging words. As I continue improving on this long and winding road, birding is massively helpful—as are your affirmations, which have found me exactly when needed on more than one occasion. I am very glad to have met you here also, and enjoy reading your perspective on places I’ve known throughout my years.
Thanks so much James for sharing about your tramautic brain injury, which you got through no fault of your own driving a rental car in search of a rare bird. I understand a bit about recovery and healing and the means of this through Nature, and in particular birds.
For me it has been cancer (2012) and a broken right arm and dislocated shoulder (2019) and tinnitus (2021) post Covid. David Foster Wallace is right.
I think that we all can get down and be hard on ourselves, especially after such a trauma to our bodies, our minds. I have a bird companion, Arya the Cockatiel. He is 95 grams of intelligence, beauty and faithfullness. Arya is magic: I think you understand. You are well on your way, James.
A little bird told me. 🕊🦜
Thank you for your kindness, Perry—and of course for the restack. I was reluctant to write this but it’s been a pretty domineering fixture in my life since 2022. I am fortunate to be at a point where it doesn’t really keep me from doing things, just makes some of those things different.
You have a very thorough understanding of recovery with all you’ve been through. That is a lot to endure and overcome. Birds and nature are key to recovery, which it sounds like Arya the Cockatiel puts more than adequately into evidence. I have a particular Palm Warbler burned into my memory that was there for me when I was profoundly low. Thank you for your encouragement and for commenting, I hope you get to enjoy some ducks and geese soon.
I’m late to commenting on this essay and gorgeous photos. So many words come to my thoughts to offer you, but one is loudest of all… courageous. You are courageous. Thank you for sharing what is happening with you, I hope that you continue. There’s so much for us to learn about other people’s invisible challenges. My favorite photo today is the tiny duckling. So fuzzy, vulnerable yet paddling along. 💞
Thank you so much, Teyani. I will continue to intermittently share about this, as it lasts quite a long time. And I’m glad you enjoyed the duckling! The time of year marked by ducklings, goslings, etc, is perfect for bird photography.
I'm strengthened by your raw love of nature. Your progression is testimony of the force of nature within your heart, and perfecting of your eternal spirit.
Thank you so much, Doris.
I just found your substack, and want to thank you for sharing such a personal journey from a horrible moment that changed everything. Your words, "I get to disregard vestigial elements of an inhibitory mindset to get the help I need," are so beautifully put and just what I'm becoming aware of lately in my own life. The photos are beautiful, and delightful to see up close when I enlarge them on my phone. What a reminder it is to me when I see the wisps of each barbule of each feather so perfectly made, that life is in the details.
Thank you Darcy. I am so glad you enjoyed the writing and the photos—I will surely share more of both!
I love your interests. Could you expound on your encounter with TBI?
Thank you, Doris. I wrote more directly about the TBI in the past, but now try to write about it in relation to my interests. I did just have my third eye surgery on Thursday, so will likely write about my first time out birding after it, as I did about the first two.
Wow. You are a quiet warrior.
Thank you, Doris. I’ll likely write more about it soon.
I love your photo expositions.
Thank you, Doris! Birds make for good photos.
One of your best
Thank you, Rob, for being such a loyal reader from the start.
I saw my first Black Hawk last month while in Sedona as well. We were at our favorite swim spot on Oak Creek, the only ones there. We heard a call that sounded like osprey, but a bit later saw the black hawk perched (for a long time) on a low hanging branch across the shore from us. It felt special regardless, but moreso when I discovered they are a bit of a rarity in the states.
Your photos are a true gift. I’m glad you have Nature as your ally. I imagine there are things you are learning through your unique healing journey that no one else can - and in that you bless the world. 🙏🏼
That sounds like such a special Black Hawk encounter! Special to watch any raptor that way, let alone one as uncommon as a Black Hawk.
Thank you for your kindness about my photos and healing. Nature is indubitably an ally.
Brilliant. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for reading, Christopher.