Sometimes I wish I could simply hope my way to being better.

All week, I'm blogging from Madison, Wisconsin, where I am getting some much needed therapy from a team of neurology experts, to all of whom I owe eternal gratitude.

As I was walking back from my second brain therapy session, I passed by a church (in photo), and thought to myself how I wished I believed in God. 

I've been in a lot of churches, primarily in Europe, and I like the feeling you get on entering. A hushed calm held in cool air washes over you, every step you take, every move, is amplified by the stone walls and arched ceiling. Oh, to be someone who could kneel in the pews, pray and believe.

But that's not me.

Instead, I will work my way back to better, by rededicating myself to the brain therapy techniques I've learned -- and am still learning -- here in Wisconsin. Like a wayward soul, I have not been practicing my therapy with enough fervor. I go through the motions, but mainly I seek ways to measure the passage of time, so I can know how much longer I have before I can stop. I also seek to entertain myself, by listening to music or playing an imaginary guitar. Not helpful. I need to focus within myself, be aware of my sense of balance, and stay in that moment. I also need to get back to doing some of the physical exercises I used to do as prep for my BrainPort sessions.

Prayer would be nice, it really would, but heaven can wait (ba dump bump).