I certainly wouldn’t have seen the movie if my history had been different. In My Beautiful Broken Brain (2014), the protagonist, Lotje Sodderland, says, “The experience of being defined by what you can no longer do or how you are limited becomes devastating.” Imagine what it’s like when, from one moment to the next, your brain no longer works as it used to.

A woman living in London suffers a stroke at the age of 34. She temporarily loses the ability to read, write, and speak clearly. The film begins with her emergency operation and follows her return to her everyday life and setbacks over the following year. The film tells of her altered sensory perception, hypersensitivity to sounds, and feelings of being overwhelmed, fatigued, frustrated, and temporarily despairing about her future.

At the film’s conclusion, the woman stands on the podium at the Cognitive Communication Conference in London, sharing her story with an audience of around 50 people. Her notes are in plain sight, showing everything she wants to say. One participant, moved by her willpower, asks, “Is there anything you can advise us as therapists to help you get through what you’ve experienced, or do you think we couldn’t have helped you in any other way?”

“A patient is confronted daily with what they can no longer do,” Sodderland replies. Her voice is hard to understand. “Maybe you could focus more on things they discover along the way, a strength they weren’t aware of before — in my case, that’s what happened.” Her words echo the promise of self-discovery, instilling hope in the audience’s hearts.

“Things rarely go back to normal” was the title of a newspaper article on brain injury I read once — a sentence that can be deeply frustrating, turning the situation into a prison from which there is no escape. However, discovering what an injured brain is still capable of after an injury and working on these previously unnoticed possibilities can give patients a chance. This journey spans years and may fail. Rebuilding a life is akin to demolishing an old house, envisioning a new one, and constructing it. It is a challenging path riddled with setbacks. Yet, as the protagonist exemplifies, the transformative power of focusing on newfound strengths can empower us to face our challenges with renewed vigor and a renewed sense of hope and optimism.

It’s worth the effort — the On Silence Artwork and everything that goes with it results from a change in focus. The brain needs silence.