In this ep, I share an emotional voice message from when I knew I had to leave pro soccer and focus on my healing. I honestly didn’t realize how much I was hating soccer at the time, until my concerning brain scan forced me to step away.
I packed up from Utah, and as soon as I landed in Portland, I embarked on a camping road trip with my friends Paige and Keelin (who have both been on the pod, ep. 38 and ep.58) to Lake Tahoe. I was asked to be a crew member for Paige who was running in the Western States, one of the most highly coveted 100-mile races in the world (that only psycho people ((I love psycho people)) choose to be a part of).
I share another voice message (that at the time, I saved in my phone as "pep talk be you do you f**k others") I recorded from the trip that starts with me feeling really unsettled in my body, questioning WTF I am doing with my life. And then, by the end of it, I’m delivering an animated pep talk to myself about how fucking weird I am, but that’s okay, and suppressing our weird is what causes our pain. It makes me LOL and I hope it makes you LOL too. Or get hyped. Or both.
Enjoy!
More musings and mentoring here: http://kendallperiod.com
Today’s plog is a journeyyyy. I start off sitting in a chair, looking up in the stars, sharing where I’m at in life and what exactly is a “plog.” I then tell the story of when I was playing pro soccer, dealing with severe concussion symptoms, and participated in an intensive stay at a concussion clinic. At the end of the clinic, I meet with the doctor who revealed to me some results on my brain scan that completely changed my life as I knew it. I inserted the actual conversation w/ this doc, as well as other raw audio messages. Heads up, I cry. This is saying a lot, considering that I was a clogged sink when it came to emotions at the time.
I then go back to the stars and share a bit more about the unconventional healing route I’ve gone on to step further into my fullest expression and to heal my physical concussion symptoms.
My website: www.arrowliving.com