Your potential still exists – the dark clouds of migraine are just obscuring it. I believe that you have the internal capability to be an extraordinary person, once the unnecessary suffering that is covering up your potential can give way to the light.

Where I live it has been a very early spring. This has given people the chance to walk in our parks and ravines in the uncommonly warm March and April weather. At first there was only a stark landscape – bare trees and no foliage at all. And then, gradually, I noticed that patches of green started to appear. It didn’t happen everywhere, but there were some trees that budded early, some ground covers that came alive, and even a few areas of brilliant color. This re-awakening promised that the annual abundance of summer would return.

I no longer take anything for granted. It is something of a miracle that plants which appear to be dead return to life every spring. They have retained their potential throughout the winter, dormantly waiting for the sun’s return to be the catalyst in their growth. It is a remarkable process.

All human beings have untapped potential – we are all capable of being more than we are. As a migraine sufferer, your pain has prevented you from learning, from grasping opportunities, and from just enjoying life. You have been stuck at a lower rung on life’s ladder.

Remember this: “pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.” Your brain’s responses to your physical pain have been unhelpful to your progress as an individual, and they can be unlearned. You are a higher order of creation than a tree or a plant -- it is time to use your magnificent brain in a positive manner.

As the Migraine Independence Coach, I can be the catalyst for you to unlock your potential at last. We can join together in a creative process which will make your inner and outer landscapes burst alive with color.

You can contact me at [email protected], or sign up for a free introductory webinar at http://migraineindependence.weebly.com/free-introductory-webinar.html.

Just as the builders of the Titanic learned, we cannot afford hubris when dealing with our headaches.

I am floating in unfamiliar territory. My nephew died of acute lymphoma on Sunday evening, only three weeks after first showing symptoms. He was 42. An aggressive course of chemotherapy proved too much for him, and by Friday all of his extended family had gathered in the Mount Sinai ICU to be with Jordan in his last moments.

I was there as the strong one – to support his parents, who were going through the death of their child; his older siblings, witnessing the unimaginable; and the more emotional people in our tribe. My children also needed special comforting. By nature I am more taciturn.

The next day, the day of the funeral, I awoke with a headache. I had not eaten regularly over the weekend, and the repressed emotions were probably taking their toll as well. 

With great courage, Jordan’s brother and sister read the eulogy. When they began to describe the lengths to which his parents had gone to improve the quality of his life, I broke down and wept. For Jordan was physically and mentally challenged all his life, and they were his advocates and saviors…until this completely unanticipated tragic end result.

After the funeral, I had some delicious strudel which contained chocolate – no one knew about this ingredient until later, even my wife, my guardian angel on such matters. Now it is Wednesday, I’m still not well, and I am harboring guilt about not being with the family.

3 day headaches are no longer the norm for me. I know this one will end, like all the others. I’ll do what works for me, only longer.

Sometimes an iceberg comes into our path, and all we can do is the best that we can.