Now that I have finished my PhD and graduated as a Doctor of Philosophy, I find myself with a lot of time on my hands. I still have plenty of things to do, don't get me wrong, but there is now a gaping 20-hours-a-week 'hole' in my to do list. Which is a good thing - it gives me time to rest, restore, recover, rejuvenate, and any other R words that suit...

I was a teenager when my mother suggested I read Franz Kafka's novella 'Metamorphosis'. Spoiler alert - in the opening sequence, a man discovers he has turned into a giant cockroach. The point of the story (I now believe) is that there are occasionally moments of dumb-bad-luck when humans can go from able-bodied, capable creatures, to suddenly finding themselves (generally through no fault of their own) turned into 'something else' that is less supported by societal norms.

When I was a youngster, I loved those books where you could choose your own adventure. For example: the main character is trekking along when they arrive at a fork in the road. Which way should they go? If you think left - turn to page 11 / if you think they should go right - turn to page 67.

As Christmas draws near, the phrase 'white magic' keeps popping up in reference to a wintery wonderland shared with family and friends. In Australia, however, it's Summer, so there's not a snowball to be seen. As such, the kind of White Magic that has been on my mind of late, is a little different. Fair warning, today's post might ruffle some feathers - but stay with me - curiosity and an open-mind is needed these days, perhaps more than ever.

Many, many, years ago there was an ad on Australian television that suggested that modern doctors could tell that the model in a Renaissance painting had breast cancer based on some dimples near her armpit. I've always remembered it, and it came into my mind again the other day when I was reading about how detective-doctors retrospectively decided Lewis Carrol (author of "Alice in Wonderland") experienced migraines with auras based on symptoms he mentioned in his diary 100+ years ago (read more…

A short time ago I wrote a post about the four stages of migraine, one of which is called "aura" (here). The sorts of things that happen to migraine patients during the aura stage include: visual disturbances, dizziness, ringing in their ears, even paralysis. But one of the rarer symptoms that was mentioned was "Alice in Wonderland Syndrome".

Ok, so today is another edition of "I may be 50+ years old, but I have NEVER heard of that before". I've done several similar posts where I follow my curiosity and explore the new terms I come across, such as 'eating crow', 'ecotone' and 'allodynia'... today is "Good Girl Syndrome" (GGS). What is Good Girl Syndrome?

In Shakespeare's play "Romeo and Juliet", the heroine whisper-wails into the night-air off her balcony; "O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?" After he doesn't reply, she reassures him that she couldn't care less what his last name is, or that his family is her family's sworn enemy. Soon after she doubles down; "What's in a name? That which we call a rose…

an image of colas listed from McDonalds coke, fountain coke, canned coke, glass, and bottled.

I recently wrote a post (here) about how I help myself fall asleep by saying the alphabet backwards as I practice deep breathing. Well, my computer must have overheard my typing, because it started to feed me news links to other sleep methods. The method I was most intrigued by was "the military sleep method". According to BigThink.com…

Woo Hoo! It's done! At the wise old age of 54, I have officially graduated from my PhD studies to become a Doctor of Philosophy, Architecture. It's taken me a little over 5 years, part-time, 3 of which I was living with diagnosed chronic migraine. Now that I'm on the 'other side' (of my studies and (most of) my migraine pain) I am a mixture of chuffed, relieved and...

Last week, for Halloween, I wrote a short story (here) that finished on a cliffhanger. Many of you asked - "what happens next?" (YAY!) So here it is, a brief interruption to my regular mindful-healing posts, and another sojourn into the uncanny... let there be answers... (and a few more questions!) * * * THE BAD DAYS Lachlan woke to the sound of something hitting the window of his car.

Today's title is shamelessly taken from the last line of John Malone's (lovely, well worth a read) poem: The Last Lighthouse. I've mentioned before that there are moments in blog-land when words jump out at me... and attach themselves like beautiful burs on my fluffy-mental-sock... and then they linger there. "Scar howl" was one such phrase, "

It feels like only yesterday I learnt the term "quiet quitting", which refers to employees all but giving up on their job. They turn up to the office each day, but they put in the bare minimum of effort, without enthusiasm, and without anything close to an "above and beyond" attitude. The reasons for quiet quitting can include: disengagement (when people don't feel recognized for their efforts they lose their sense of commitment); …

I've been experimenting with ways to help people understand what it's like to live with chronic migraine. This blog is part of my endeavors, as are the short stories I write under the genre-name I refer to as "Migraine Gothic". After I'd written a few posts (here), I put several of them into a free e-book (over here…

A short time ago I reviewed a piece of writing about migraines, plants and pain, written by Tan Tuck Ming. There was a phrase that he used that stood out to me at the time of reading, and has stayed with me since - he mentioned his pursuit of a "frictionless life". I totally get it - especially when you're not feeling well, you just want life to be as simple as possible, you want everything to run smoothly, with no snags, no glitches, no trips or traps...

In 2018, there was a massive uproar in the Australian news about an image that was placed on the hoarding of a construction site, on the campus of Adelaid University. Can you see why? I'll let the newspaper author explain it: "The ad on hoardings [...] features an image of five young women surrounding a young man who, with arms raised, is apparently in the act of uttering an idea of great importance."

Some time ago, I wrote a post titled "The narrow road of healing" which referenced the seventeenth century writer Matsuo Basho (1644-94) and his book of poems written on pilgrimage. The collection of poems included one that is considered 'the most famous' haiku ever written - "The Old Pond": An old pond; A frog leaps in – The sound of water.

I am not fit. I don't like exercise. I tell myself it's because I don't have enough energy to exercise. Or time. Or that I'm worried the bouncing around will make my head pain worse. And besides, I already do mindful movement in the form of Tai Chi. Oh! And I walk the dogs most mornings. Surely that's enough? It's not.

Today's post outlines what the 4 phases of a migraine are, including the fourth stage - 'postdrome' - and it explains why chronic migraine can feel like you're permanently stuck in a state of postdrome. But it's not all bad news; it also provides some ideas about how to change your predicament. According to Migraine.com, there are 4 phases to a migraine:

A little while ago, one of my blogging friends, Silver Apple Queen, left a comment on my post "Our Woven Selves" to say that when she thought about migraine metaphors, she imagined her migraines as Pablo Picasso paintings. And if you know anything about his abstract art, it's not hard to see why. "The Weeping Woman" (1937) is an iconic image that jumped into my mind, with its abstract features and pointy, paper-plane shaped tissue (or newspaper with bad news) folded before her face.

I recently watched the fictional murder mystery "The Residence" which is set in the White House during a visit from the Australian prime minister (played by Julian McMahon (whose father was the actual Prime Minister of Australia in the year I was born, oh, and he was once married to Danni Minogue for a little extra meta-narrative given Kylie Minogue also makes an appearance!))

Many, many months ago I wrote about how living with chronic migraine was akin to a horror story filled with darkness and jump scares (here). Elsewhere, I suggested that one way to reduce your suffering was to imagine your migraine-mess as part of a silly sitcom rather than a horrible horror story, so that your flailing and stumbling was comic rather than tragic (

Recently, I have been practicing a breathing exercise that I invented (or if not that - because it's rare to truly invent anything these days - then, I can promise I genuinely have never heard anyone else talk of it). When I'm lying in bed and trying to calm myself down, completely, utterly, so that my mind and body are both blissfully still, I breathe my way through the alphabet.

When you have chronic migraine, your brain doesn't always brain the way it's supposed to. Brain-fog is real. For me there are some days I feel as if I have lost several IQ points. Other days, the effect of migraine-overwhelm is more subtle... I don't have complete confusion, I just... lose words. I might be in a conversation with a friend and say, "I like your...