No Brainer
Health Lessons Learned through Brain Injury
Life has a way of pressing the pause button when we least expect it. For me, a brain injury forced that pause, stripping away my normal daily life and leaving me to face the fundamental question of what it means to be well, and live well. Through this experience, I’ve learned three key things: the power of pausing, the beauty of listening, and the pleasure of prioritising. I’d love to share these with you.
Pause
In 2023 I fainted and fell down a set of steps in a restaurant, and for weeks suffered extreme fatigue, headaches and the many and varied experiences of what I later discovered as “Post Concussion Syndrome”. I was incredibly grateful to still be able to walk and talk and feed myself, but the sense of loss was huge. Overnight, all the things I thought I had to do became irrelevant. I realised that very little is actually important.
I’d thought that life had sometimes felt like being in front of a relentless tennis ball machine, constantly firing demands, expectations, and responsibilities at me, and I was really very good at staying on my feet and blasting them right back. But it’s an exhausting way to live! Whilst the injury was difficult in a lot of ways, it also gave me a chance to step back, take a breath, and reset. For me this was “a gift wrapped in suffering” - a chance to consider how I truly wanted to live.
Pausing helped me learn:
To take regular brain breaks – because constant mental exertion leads to me to feel frantic, anxious and struggle to truly rest. Our brains need to move through the gears each day, not go from 0 to 60 and stay there!
To respond, not react – especially useful when living with teenagers! I discovered a space in between when my brain processes information and my response. I started to see my thoughts as just my thoughts … they come and go. I have choices.
To reflect – to ask, How do I actually want to live? and What would my ideal life look like? What is important?
To regulate my nervous system – something that has transformed my recovery and is now fundamental to my understanding of what it means to be well.
Listen
I’ve learned how to really listen.
To the birds in the park – I realised that their songs are amazing when I actually stopped to take time to hear them.
To other people – (partly because I didn’t have the energy to speak as much!) and in my role as a Health Coach.
To my kids – whenever they need me - even if some of their YouTube lingo at the dinner table makes no sense to me at all.
To my body – because it tells me exactly what it needs.
Before my injury, I ignored my body’s messages. Now, I recognise the early warning signs: a dull ache in my jaw, face, or head means I need rest. Brain fog and fatigue signal that I need to slow down. I’ve learned that my body isn’t just there to carry my head around—it’s a whole system that needs care and it tells me what I need! When I listen and give it the basics every day - rest, nourishing food, hydration, daily movement and exercise, the great outdoors, sun (when possible) sleep, fun, connection with others —it functions well. When I don’t, it malfunctions.
How had I built a life that so often overlooked these basic things?! And why?
Prioritise
Recovery taught me that making true, lasting changes isn’t about motivation—it’s about commitment.
Commitment to exercise – because movement is medicine.
Commitment to my own hobbies and activities – now doing Parkrun, swimming, walks in the park, gardening, Pilates, reading, audiobooks, and podcasts are non-negotiables for me. It’s not selfish, it’s essential.
Commitment to nutrition – understanding the power of food and its impact on the immune system, the delicate balance of our hormones, thousands of intricate processes including, so it turns out, brain function. Yes, food is also medicine for the brain. Who knew?!
So I’ve discovered that if something is truly a priority, it will become a habit. I’m not always motivated, but I am committed to these things, and I never regret it afterwards.
I’ve also learned that high standards, high achieving, being driven and not savouring the now tends to wreck my priorities. So, sometimes the kitchen stays messy, sometimes I say no. Often there are jobs that are left undone for a long time. And that’s fine.
Final Reflections
I’ve learned that if I need input from others I should get it—a health coach, a therapist, a personal trainer—whatever helps me move forward in living a life that’s not on autopilot. I previously thought I could handle it all myself, thanks.
However, no one else can look after my day-to-day health for me in the way I can - not doctors or physios or -ologists, because they’re not the solution for everything and we shouldn’t expect them to be. Whilst medical professionals played a role in my recovery, so much of my progress was in my own hands. So now, and for the rest of my life, my health depends on the small things I do, every day, because I’ve made that commitment to myself.
So, friend, take time to pause. Think. Write down how you want to live and what habits will get you there. A less frantic, healthier life won’t just happen—you have to create it and keep working at it, and some days will be great and others won’t. Such is life. But if you wait till you’re less busy, it really won’t happen.
Don’t wait for a health crisis to learn all this. Take the gift without the suffering whilst you can.